roadtrip promises

if you take the wheel, i will spread out this map
we bought at the gas station 15 miles ago
and tell you which way to go.

i will hold your hand when we're out of the city
and there are no more stoplights or traffic.

i will say "just one more hour, i think!"
even though i'm not so good at predictions.

i will peel you an orange,
shell pistachios for you,
unwrap granola bars for you.

i won't change the music if i don't want to,
but i'll consider your feedback.

for every farm animal we pass, you get one point;
for every orchard, i get one.

on nights when we have to keep going,
i'll take over the driving. you can stretch out in the backseat.
i'll listen to the news to stay awake.
when you wake up at 4:30 a.m. and ask if i want to switch,
ask if the empty roads are getting lonely,
ask if i want company,
i'll tell you it's ok, i don't mind so much,
the sun will be coming up soon anyway.
we'll get there soon anyway.