Destinations

The same five tunes drone 
on the only two stations 
my Camry gets,
Hurling down Rt.16
swallowed in chicken-shacked corn fields.

Driving into Rehoboth Beach, Delaware
Foot tapping expectantly, eager.
I’m ready to be sun-kissed,
kids’ screams mingling 
with the surf.
Wet sand-molds 
of world-worn feet:
Water temp, 64o.
Thrasher’s fries waft in the air;
Seagull mobsters point the way . . .

Finally present,
nighttime masses laughs and cries 
mingle to a din —
Standing still
in scampering crowds,
Unseen, unknown,
surrendered.

I came here thinking I’d escape,
Only to find, as the sun burns off my detritus,
I’ve finally arrived.