The silence in the car is difficult to bear.I turn on the radio, and music fills the air.My fingers tap to the beat on the steering wheel.The guitars vibrate so loudly, they almost seem real.I glance at my child, sleeping in his car seat.The volume goes down, and he rests, so sweet.The road stretches out before me, like a ribbon of gray.Only a few more hours, and we will find a place to stay.I begin to sing again, as a new song plays on the radio.This time, however, I detect a small echo.The volume goes down, and I listen carefully.There is another voice, and I know it is not me.Just as I begin to wonder if the car has learned to sing,I glance back to see my once-sleeping child, sweetly harmonizing. 4. From what point of view is the poem told?