Seventy-Four Miles

By Siobhan Farrell

Seventy-Four Miles, digital Illustration, boy Roland

I’m trying not to hold too tightly 

to these seventy-four miles between 

Superior and Bayfield Wisconsin 

beside my ninety-two-year-old mother 

who stares out her window 

between nods of sleep, 

listening to Yo Yo Ma 

playing bluegrass.

Clouds unfurl, the sun 

beats in our eyes. 

We ride alongside wildflowers,  

the smell of the wind.  

Hawks circle and circle, 

hay bales like nests, 

giant furry animals  

doze warm in the fields.    

I know that summer will end, 

snowbirds will swoop down.

I know this seat beside me 

will one day be empty. 

I know these seventy-four miles 

are a gift, 

a journey 

we are making together

towards the big lake 

stretching out as the sun 

sinks in the sky 

and finally sleeps.