“Let’s do something,” my daughter said.
“What do you want to do?” I replied.
“I don’t know. What do you want to do?”
“How about a Beach Bowl?”
The drive to get a Beach Bowl is one of my favorites. I’ll take this road even though it takes longer. I’ll shop in stores along this road, even if they might not have the best choice. Along this road, I pass my childhood home, my old high school, the Little League field my brother played at, the homes of my friends, roads I ran. I ended up raising my family about ten miles from my childhood home. The road is a repository.
The road between my house
and my childhood home
holds
play in the back yard
birthdays and holidays.
It holds
damp mornings
sleepy sweatshirt bundled children
smeared in sunscreen.
Windy afternoons
sand covered, salty, and starving
bodies bounce along
the road between my house and
my childhood home.
It holds
family outings
shopping trips
dropping off and
picking up
doctor’s appointments.
Shifting
moments
that mix and fold
as I travel on the road
between my house
and my childhood home.
read more slices here
To Read To Write To Be 
what an amazing blend of new and memory. I often wonder why I can’t learn these streets I travel now in that way I knew my childhood streets. How even now I can conjure up the stores, the houses, the street signs of my small town, so many years away from here.
I can imagine this road and all the memories it offers. I rarely see my childhood home anymore. I need to put it on the list for my sister and me to do next week.
I want to know what a Beach Bowl is. You take memory lane to a new level with this. “The road is a repository.”
A trip down memory lane, indeed. I love these lines-
“Shifting
moments
that mix and fold”
Thank you for sharing your poetry.
Your poem has a soothing tone. The details feel warm and secure. Plus, I love learning that you now live so close to where you were raised. I also want to know what a Beach Bowl is but I imagine it is worth the drive!!