I didn’t know what roads we’d take eighty-two thousand miles ago.
“I bought a new car, Mom” … “What color is it?” … “Indigo.”
I didn’t know we’d escort her ashes in Illinois.
I didn’t know we’d dodge a windswept tumbleweed in Albuquerque.
I didn’t know we’d take a desperate left turn in St. Louis.
I didn’t know we’d go back to the Grand Canyon rim to gather pine cones.
I didn’t know any of it seven years ago.
I only knew you’d be the one to carry us home.
By Mark Johnson
May 21, 2019
One thought on “I Didn’t Know, Indigo”
That is so beautiful.
Now you can never trade it in!!