A journey poem by Shawna Lichtenwalner

Dokota horses, a feral and semi-feral breed located in the badlands of southwestern North Dakota, walk into the sunset — capturing the idea that life is about movement rather than standing still, and that we are all perpetually traveling toward something. (Photos by Shawna Lichtenwalner)

Anatomy of a Journey, Part 1

The first five hours are “home territory.”  

Your journey has not yet begun.  

Think mournfully about those you are leaving behind 

Invent regrets, the lack of one last hug.  

Dwell on everything you could have done.  

It is morning, and you will be half asleep as you drive,  

So snack constantly on whatever you want.  

Never count calories on a long road trip, 

Especially when you are the only driver.  

For an hour, traveling from Lexington to Louisville, enjoy the horse farms.  

This part of the trip stands alone, a brief respite between the first leg and the next. 

Once you leave Louisville you are in for a long, boring drive across Indiana and Illinois. 

240 miles of nothing in particular.  

If you haven’t already done so, start your audiobook.  

There is no use calling friends at this stage, as you have nothing to say.  

If you wish, you can fill your time thinking about how much road still lies before you.  

Saint Louis marks the final leg of the first day’s drive.  

You are only seven hours from your first major goal,  

But you have already driven seven hours today, so 

give yourself permission to stay in Columbia for the night,  

just two hours down the road.  

Twelve hours on the first day is enough,  

Even though the road warrior in you knows you could do more.  

Doing more would mean arriving, somewhere,  

With legs that vibrate and feel weak, 

When you get into your hotel room 

Promise yourself an early start,  

For which you must fall asleep  

RIGHT NOW.  

Lay awake for an hour and then sleep fitfully.  

Convince yourself when you wake up at  

4:30, then 5:15, then 6:00 that you should not start out yet. 

You think you are fully awake, but you are not; 

Ten miles down the road you would regret the decision.  

If you stayed at Columbia as you should have done,  

The second day is a mere five hours into Omaha,  

Where your mother is waiting anxiously for your arrival,  

Spinning tales to herself of horrific car accidents.  

This is why you must hurry.  

She no longer understands time,  

And long before you arrive she will call you crying,  

Sure that you are dead.  

There is nothing you can do to prevent this.  

Her mind will not be able to retain the fact 

That you can’t possibly arrive before 2:00.  

Even though you know that she is waiting anxiously 

Stop at the good antique mall in St. Joeseph anyway,  

To give yourself a brief rest.  

You will feel guilty about this indulgence  

and will walk unreasonably fast through the aisles,  

But nevertheless you will enjoy it. 

Once you reach your mother 

Remember that you no longer know how to handle her confusion without upsetting her.  

You will make a mistake and her anger will flare.  

You will long for your sister’s assistance.  

When you look at the clock it will say 3:00;  

You have only been here an hour and already it feels overwhelming.  

If your sister comes it will not be until after work,  

Two more hours, minimum, before help might arrive.  

By then, you will have halfway remembered 

How to help your mother with the basics 

While hiding your frustration at having to repeat 

The same information endlessly.  

Even though all of this is hard you will not lose sight  

Of the fact that you love your mother deeply,  

and cannot imagine a world without her.  

She is your closest friend; you talk every night.  

You know that there will not be many more such visits, 

 and this one is precious.  

You cannot stay more than five days,  

Or possibly a week, before you must leave.  

You are needed in North Dakota.  

Start too early on this last, nine-hour leg.  

Pull over at the first rest stop and sleep until you wake up.  

Sleeping in cars is awkward, so you will probably only 

Sleep for 15-20 minutes before jolting awake and continuing your drive.  

It is an hour and a half to Sioux City; this is the “warmup” for the real drive.  

After Sioux City you have 207 miles straight up I29. 

It is the best road in the country, with a high speed limit and few cars.  

It will feel like you are flying. You are so near your goal.  

Make sure you start this section of the trip with a full tank of gas;  

There won’t be many opportunities along the way,  

And you have arrived at your exit with the gas light flashing 

Too many times already. 

When you do exit, you will stop at the Coffee Cup.  

Grab Subway or Pizza Hut to take with you,  

as dining options at your destination are extremely limited.  

You are on the home stretch now, almost there.  

You have a mere 200 miles to go.  

It is safe to start projecting your arrival time. 

(No matter what choices you have made along the way you will  

arrive between 4:30-5:00).  

Think about what you want to do first 

(You will always want to see the mares first, to check on their pregnancies).  

Once you hit Aberdeen you will be driving the back roads.  

Try not to hit a pheasant which will become permanently embedded  

In the grill of your car.  

It is also best not to get caught speeding, even though there seems  

No logical reason not to go as fast as you want. 

Patience is impossible at this point. 

Now is the time to call your friends,  

As talking to people will help you eat up these final miles.  

Finally you will arrive.  

It has only been a nine-hour drive, so your body will not be shaky. 

If people are around you must remember to talk to them first,  

Instead of bypassing them and running straight to the horses.  

It is not impossible for you to observe this most basic social grace.  

Finally, find yourself magically transported into a world that is so fundamentally alien 

From your life in Tennessee that it does, indeed, feel like an entirely different world.  

You have not discovered time travel,  

you have discovered how to pass from one world to another,  

Immerse yourself in the magic of wild horses in a gigantic landscape.  

You have arrived, and for however long you stay,  

This will be your only reality.  

You will not miss the things you have left behind 

Because what is in front of you is so powerful and immediate.  

And the time will come when you must reverse this miraculous journey. 

But for now you have arrived and are living as wild as the herd,  

And while you are doing so that other world will be 

No more than a faint memory.  

Anatomy of a Journey, Part 2 

On this first day, it is important to leave as late as you reasonably can,  

Because you won’t want to go and even an extra hour is precious. 

This is true whether you have been there a week and a half or a month and a half. 

There is no hurry because Mom is no longer waiting for you in Omaha.  

When you do leave you will cry all the way to Aberdeen, 

 the first two-hour leg of the first day’s drive.  

The power and the pull of what you are leaving behind will be almost 

Too much for you.  

It’s only about 70 miles from Aberdeen to the interstate.  

This is a good time to call someone, as these miles can go slowly.  

If you get in a good conversation it can carry you halfway to Sioux Falls.  

At any rate, once you hit the interstate you will fly, and the miles will feel easy.  

That will last until Sioux City and then you will feel like you are driving through molasses.  

Those last 90 miles into Omaha are brutal.  

You definitely need to phone a friend to get through them. 

 If you can’t find anyone to talk to you better hope that the audiobook is extra good.  

Arrive in Omaha hopefully not much later than 9 at night,  

So you can spend an hour or two with your sister before bed. 

It will still feel weird to be there without Mom.  

Resist the urge to drive around looking for her.  

If you drive to the nursing home and stare up at the window which is no longer hers 

You will only find sorrow. She will not be there.  

She is not anywhere.  

But at least you have your sister.  

With luck you can even stay an extra day,  

Although you will feel pressure to get home.  

Still, there is no hurry now.  

You no longer need to drive to the edge of your tolerance.  

When you start out the next day the first five hours, from Omaha to Columbia, 

 is “home territory” and won’t feel onerous.  

You can stop at the antique mall in Kansas City,  

Stroll leisurely through its aisles.  

You don’t usually make good finds there,  

but antique stores are a part of your family’s DNA, 

so you will stop anyway.  

Give yourself permission to rest in Mount Vernon for the night.  

You could of course drive further, but there is no need to push yourself to the limit.  

Enjoy all the perks, a free (mediocre) dinner, 

Free cocktails, popcorn.  

Spend time in the hot tub.  

When you go to bed (early) 

You will not need to panic about getting to sleep quickly,  

And you will find that you sleep through the night 

Rather than jolting awake every hour, looking for your departure time.  

You can rise earlier than you would at home 

To start that last, nine-hour leg.  

You have already travelled part of the way from St. Louis to Louisville,  

So the long stretch in Indiana won’t feel so bad.  

You feel fresh and optimistic and up for the drive.  

Snack as needed.  

Between Louisville and Lexington you will stop 

At the good rest stop,  

With the horse statues outside and the Breyers in a case in the lobby.  

You will pause to look at them, even though you have already done this 

On every previous journey. You are there to pay homage.  

Once you hit Lexington you are in the home range again.  

As you pass through look at the Clarion hotel,  

Legendary in the world of plastic horse collectors, 

Which you cannot help but feel looks stately,  

Even though you know there are mouse traps in every stairwell.  

The drive down through Kentucky won’t be so bad,  

And when you hit that first rest area in Tennessee  

You will feel like you are home again,  

With its log-cabin buildings and its old-time music playing.  

You might pause to think it strange that Tennessee is now your home,  

But you like it very much all the same.  

It will take a little bit longer to get to Knoxville than you think it should,  

And then, all of a sudden, you will be at your exit.  

You are now two hours from home, and you will start to anticipate.  

Your dog, your cats, your horses, your husband will all become real again,  

And you cannot wait to see them.  

You have been gone for a lifetime.  

You are no longer the person you were when you departed 

Two months ago, or two weeks ago. 

Things have happened since then.  

Because you are now breaking your return trip into three nine-hour days 

You will arrive in daylight, and while you won’t be rested it won’t take 

Four days to recover from the journey. 

 Your body will ache less,  

And you won’t feel so impossibly tired.  

You will fall asleep that first night knowing 

That the mountains are right outside your window.  

The herd in North Dakota is now no more than a fairy tale,  

A mythic world of the imagination,  

You have, once again,  

Reentered the real world.  

Somewhere deep inside start planning your next journey.  

Shawna Lichtenwalner on a horse in East Tennessee.

Shawna Lichtenwalner is an Associate Professor at East Tennessee State University where she teaches a variety of literature courses with a specialization in Romanticism. Her summers are dedicated to a rare breed of horse, the Nokota®, and resides with the herd in North Dakota, where she chronicles the herd through writing and photography. 

Her current creative work, Poems from the Herd utilizes a combination of poetry and photography to explore the intersection of horse and human interaction and the various ways in which a life spent dedicated to the service of horses becomes its own journey.