How other than us!
The ghosted hills reign high and wide,
with cloud-white sheets that swirl
and keep their secret selves from me.
From anyone who tries to see.
It’s hide and seek.
(oh, but it’s treat, too).
Alarmed, tires yank us forward to safety and windows seal the blockade.
They mean well but they worry too much.
I pretend to eat my sandwich and,
when they’re not looking,
while they’re busy saving me from the world,
I throw breadcrumbs.