Traveling
Maps seeded with hope;
small, stray ink marks press paper
like feet on soft soil
Mud clings drags sucks backward but
the path-- there is one-- forward.
Draw up equations that fraction
the possibility of moving along
curved dimensions among
Distances carved in minutes,
counted in latitudes, degrees
So far, so far, and
yet still here, still in the midst
of the sky.
night breeze wafting, citrine moon,
campfire tales... we leave too soon
to pack climaxes in bags full
of openings and these
departures, fumes and noise
zippers pulled tight, campfire coal
gathered, eradiating
lost: wildlife camping,
tallgrass prairies viewed up close,
highway refuges
Unfamiliar tastes roll out
spicy language on the tongue.
gyros and lemon
cacophony of taxis
leaves fall, unnoticed
no, there is one who sees, her
eye enlarged, watching land pass
Telescope focus,
Microscopic visionary--
Earth promise, ants, trees...
uprooted, train tracks speed through
narrow tunnels: go go go
caves below the crust
salted with light, pepper pitched
coal scattered, shovels
Lift the lantern: in glinting
shards the light shows diamonds.
dun rock, sparkly white
quartz spiderwebs, no diamonds.
true gold flakes entwined
with phrases on displays
we crane our necks to read
down stairs to platform
electric oil smell
noses pressed to glass
breath steams window art, daisies
jut yellow, white, exhausted
looking in plain view
passenger aisles row
after row, no exit
Motion, stillness, illusion--
Which is it? Are we here? There?
why did we leave, wanderers
trailing dust, sand, rocks
clinging haphazardly to
steel gateways arching above,
memory fibers sculpting
rhythmic thump of feet
on wood slats, death's head puppets
wobble crazily
Shuffle the papers, declare
to the uniform your reason.
recall them to life
on Día de los Muertos
with tears, songs, sweet bread
pray whispers to saints, angels
holy feet blistered, torpid
after the first light,
visages of the divine
engraved in ruins
after fifth light, dawn tears in
pink, cobalt, orangery
pock-marked sandstone face
the ancient lion goddess
sees nothing, knows all
brushes the swaggered tail
of a tiger who passes
sojourner on
the prowl, unchecked, searching
vacated hemispheres
sleepy eyes regard wonder
with diffidence, rheum, yawning
at last the turning
the familiar facade
hurry hurry home
its rhine moistened with dark mulch
a gradient, festooned den.
