headed down south, lierally and figuratively

every time
i make a frantic
fifteenth pass
to be sure that
i grabbed
everything for
the work trip
i wonder if
this is the
last time i will
ever see this
stricken with
fatalistic wonder
as i murmur my
love like a
benediction before
heading out
into the symphony
of bird song
back onto the
one true place
i feel comfortable
as the dotted line
blurs along the
sun baked highway
always moving
yet never quite
making it anywhere
i hope that if
this is the last
time i am here
the echoes of
my heartbeat will
tap out a message
to the kids and
her wildflower smile
before my ashes
sting the unblinking
eye of divinity
one last time

too anxious to live
too petty to die
a fool and the road
with six thousand
declarations of
insipid nothing to
fuel my funeral pyre
as the road opens up
and i go too fast
the wrong way down
these unmarked one ways
a homeless vagabond
clothed in tattered words
always hungering
for what i cannot afford


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