Road Trip Poem by Maya Stein

You don't need the sprawl of the interstate, the odometer climbing
and candy wrappers haloing your seat. You don't need toll booths and a pocket
weighted with quarters. You don't need speed limits or state lines or a full
tank of gas. You don't need to wait for solitude. You don't need to wait for sadness.
Even if it's an hour, two. Even if where you live promises little,
the destinations unremarkable, the landscape absent of glitter and thrill. Even if
your car is a bicycle or your car is your legs or your car is your mind.
Make the goal, simply, movement. Let your gaze fall soft. Back out of the driveway
of all that is familiar, and permit yourself the brief enchantment of a mapless ride.
Get lost. Get found. Get going.