Wild Weekend Warriors
we get away some Fridays
exit town
my weekend travel warrior and I
two mid-century moderns
kindred spirits
readers
writers
lovers of wine
and food
……and silence
we leave the husbands
home
and book a room
with stacks of magazines
piles of novels, anthologies, verse
journals, pens, laptops
two mysterious mavens,
travelers
who raise eyebrows
at split-bill/shared-key
check-ins
then hustle like honeymooners
to our hiatal haven:
a voluminous Vesuvius
in the North Georgia mountains
erupting with
the soul-renewing tranquility
of words
of reflection
of inner growth
adventure vitamins
of pages devoured
journeys, quests shared
ginko biloba
of stories spread across pages
with liberally flowing ink
like cinnamon pear preserves –
experiences, moments captured
so that when we are too old
to travel
we can re-scale this mountain
we pack up our literary luggage
and return the shared key on Sundays-
allowing the raised-eyebrow wonderers
to be mind writers who
weave their own denouement
modeling perfectly
the language teacher’s strength and mantra:
“the reader writes the story”
Common Threads 