PAD 24

We drove alone,
just a woman and just a girl,
cutting through the wild darkness
of a Mississippi night.

The haunted Vicksburg mansion
you wanted to visit was closed,
but the river curled like a
tarnished bronze ribbon
when morning came.
We spit the seeds,
from tomatoes eaten whole,
onto the Natchez Trace,
after we left the vegetable stand
where they played John Coltrane,
then prayed in the slave cemetery
beside the 200 year old inn.

In New Orleans,
we got henna tattoos,
and I embarrassed you
by moaning over my food.
I blushed as we walked Bourbon St.
but tried to remember
my first time there,
I was younger than you.
Our cab driver quoted poetry,
and you bought art
as your biggest souvenir.

I said,
"We can go anywhere.
You get to decide."
I hoped you'd know
I was telling you to dream.

Today's prompt was travel.