The Drive In

Give me back my rustic sunsets, my oranges and reds.
Give me back my star lit nights when the truck
of the car would be popped as we sat at the drive in.
Give me back those times as a family
that we spent together,
buying popcorn and curling under blankets.
Give me back those joke stabs Dad used to tell us kids,
just to make us laugh.
Give me back the joy of giggling together
as the movie progressed or as
my sister's foot was shoved into my face.
Give me back the long tired ride home,
snugged up, car belts restraining.
Give me back my family.