F. William Broome
ANXIOUS MILES – 1952
Our antique bus struggles through
icy gutters on an old and tired road,
its light beams pointing homeward.
Inside the warm cozy sleigh, I feel
it rock slightly, back and forth, like
a weaver’s shuttle making a magic carpet.
We sit in silent darkness holding gifts
for loved ones and home-again reality.
Old memories melt away, thinking of
family and places in the heart.
The fatherly driver works steadily
guiding four wheels to
chip away anxious miles toward
our long awaited Christmas Present.
©Copyright December 23, 2006 by F. William Broome
Revised: December 9, 2007