After many, many hours in the car,
through spring blizzards and shine,
over passes and through tunnels,
we have conversed about loneliness
and loss, isolation and struggle,
we’ve found laughter inside
awkwardnesses and cried
for reasons we don’t understand
and we have solved nothing
of the world’s problems, nor our own,
but in this last hour, a lovely
silence joins us in the car,
all those unanswered questions
somehow content to look out the window
and admire with us the white rumps of elk
and the mountains newly covered
with snow, so much already
growing beneath the white.