She wanted to go off
the trail. She claimed
she could get us back
to where the car was
parked by following
the movement of the sun.
But the clouds were
threatening to make the sun
a recent memory. She said,
“Don’t you trust me?” I
trusted her to drive the car,
as long as I had a road map
on my lap for quick reference.
It reminded me too much
of our relationship – I wanted
to stay on the trail – have
familiar landmarks. She wanted
to make her own path. If I
could follow, she liked that,
but if I couldn’t, I just had
to wait for her to come back.
© 2013 Hal Sirowitz
Hal Sirowitz
Off the Trail
