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 Romantic Notions By Ivy Rose

My eyes were cast down so I wouldn't get car sick
from the miles of highway passing by my window.
My step-dad drove but early signs of dementia were there.
He had gotten directions from the AAA to our destination
but he had gotten directions for the wrong route nine.

It was a long ride with my step-dad asking
every ten minutes or so if we were on the same route.
We finally figured out we were heading to Boston
not the route nine in New Hampshire that we wanted
We were hopelessly late and had to get on the right track.

My step-dad saw some bikers having drinks
on a restaurant patio off the main road in New Hampshire;
so he went over to them and asked for their help.
Three bikers wearing black leather jackets 
saddled their motorcycles motioning for us to follow them.

We followed them through the twists and turns of back roads
stopping a few times to ask for directions from the locals.
But they brought us right to the long curving driveway
of my Uncle's lakeside cabin where the reunion was underway.
I couldn't help but chuckle just a bit about how we had arrived.

I joked," This must be the first time that anyone has gotten here
behind a line of motorcycles driven by the Hell's Angels."
Everybody laughed and rushed to greet us with big hugs.
And that family reunion was to be our very last one
since so many in our family have moved on or passed away.

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