Choose.

Image from flickr

Travel through desert is just different -

They say you should never try it alone
And fill your tank first, don’t forget water.
You know when it is near,
because the gas station is busier
than Beaver’s house when the damn broke,
not long past midnight -
locals eating lunch.

When you leave the light at last
and feel what real dark is,
the last glow of things made by man
in the rear-view.

Something within you just – slows.

You make what time you can before the east ignites.
Rolling or stumbling, it is up to you.
And when you learn what life is like
on a match-head
you know with certainty
if you want to stay.

You make the decision, every time
Cannot cross without doing it.
You choose to see the other side
Or you choose not to.

——————-

Some other poems by this author

After the Typhoon

Beldam Bedlam (one of my personal favorites)

Pick Me a Winner

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Comments (3)
  • raman13 on Aug 22, 2009

    Great Work

    Best Regards

  • Cynthia Bartlett on Aug 23, 2009

    sweet! I grew up on the Mojave, and it wasn’t considered windy unless you could not see within one foot of you. The Santa Ana winds really whipped the sand around.

  • CutestPrincess on Sep 7, 2009

    nice… it sounds a great experience…

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