It Was a Long and Frustrating Night
When we drove cross country,
you’d insist that I keep you awake
and I’d fall asleep and dream
you were running off the road.
I’d whack you in the ribs
and you’d yell that it wasn’t
you that was asleep.
Or we’d pull over at a rest stop to doze
and I’d wake up in the dark thinking
I was driving and try to slam on the breaks.
I’m glad we don’t do that anymore.