We mapped our trip on GPS, packed hopes and snacks for miles—
The radio humming smooth jazz, our faces wide with smiles.
Yet clouds rolled in, lightning and wind, rain blurred the exit signs,
And what we’d planned unraveled fast in unexpected lines.

The roadside diner’s battered booth, a refuge from the storm,
Served laughter we had never planned, a different kind of warm.
We found new stories in the detour, soft comfort in the change,
The journey’s gift: a gentle shift, our spirits rearranged.

Though what we set out for was lost, we gained what couldn’t be charted—
Friendship, found in winding roads, and memories uncharted.
Sometimes, the best of what we have comes not from what we planned,
But from the turns we didn’t choose, and holding someone’s hand.


by Diane E. Dockum
©April 16, 2026