“Blankets from the Car”

Slightly worn through,

But only in spots.

Backseat, the trunk-

Keeps the treasure.

Picnics, beach going,

Reading in parks.

Long car rides,

And cold winter nights-

Pass me a corner,

Then sleep through ’til light.

Pink, white, green, stripes

Checkerboard patterns-

Any will do.

Memories linger

In this textile,

Dropping loose sand and leaf too.

Some tangled tightly

In the coarse Afghan hands.

Grandmother reaching,

Give joyful slumbers

To our sleepy heads.

Tucked in the car,

Just in case we might take a break

And need a warm wrapping.

We will be safe.