On a Bus To Atlanta

September 11, 1997

Past midnight,

the miles unwind

at a sluggish pace.

Heads sway

with each subtle

lane change.

All around,

conversations die

in mid-sentence

leaving silence.

Then, without notice,

my teenage son

curls like a baby

and falls asleep

across my lap.

Our closeness,

lost so long ago,

gives warmth

that this stranger

still needs Dad.