Blog poetry reflections WRITING

direction less

direction less

The last place we stopped at had no electricity, no running water and their towers overlooked cheap hotels that had been vacant of service for years.  It was just another road trip to him, but to me it was possibility, someplace existing that didn’t care about the holes in my shoes or heart.  For seven hours we had only enough money to split peanuts, oreos and country time lemonade between hope and no destination but for me it was a buffet prefaced with a taste of friendship.

When that cab driver dropped me off in the desert he didn’t ask for money and it was alright because the time we had together was more than fair.  He waved at me as he drove off saying he hoped he left me where I wanted to be but if not he’d pray I’d find what I was I looking for. 

I smile every time I see running water wondering how he couldn’t tell my prayer had been answered on that ride and I cry hoping he made it home safely.

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