Homebound on I-89

It would have been a much different ending,
Undoing it all: the luxury of four
Days in the sun, the freedom of not
Being from there, the freckled pebbles picked

Carefully - like eggs - from their nests in the sand,
Against the soundtrack of airy beach noises
(The high-pitched buzz of the naked heat,
The kite-flying children’s sloshing feet),

And above all, the music rising
From the rain-buffeted piano into
Cloud castles sweeping over the festive folk
Gathered by a certain goodness,

If we hadn’t swerved, crucially, just in time
Before two pairs of dazzled raccoon eyes.