We drove all night, both of us 18, both of us thinking now we were free.
We drove all night through Georgia, 2 am empty streets of Atlanta, to the
very edge of the world, to the very last key, to the endless blue ocean.
The still soft light of morning was on us, the day full of promise and hope,
as we sat side by side on the beach, looking out to the ocean’s endless horizon.
We held hands, we felt tiny between earth and see, more than we ever did in church.
We drink soda pop with our eggs and hash browns breakfast in a small café.
The day is fully bright, and we have maybe $75, and no where to spend the night.
We don’t know anyone here, or where to find work, or what to do now with ourselves.
18 and we thought we were free, but the world is always there; sometimes home is too.
We drove back to Maryville, still carrying the feeling of being found by being lost in awe,
but we have not made our plans for escape, and sometimes plans are not enough.