Journey to Nowhere
from The Long Ritard, page 3
ISBN 0-931002-35-5
Petaluma, 2004
An empty chair,
your plate untouched...
Suddenly you are moving
through the door,
down the hall...
looking for something
that isn’t there.
Oh, my Wanderer,
When did you lose the map
to where you were going?
Stop/walk/cross/wait...
All signals jammed at the
intersection of your life.
Come back!
Stay close, I know the way.
I will be your silver bracelet,
your compass, your guide.
This is not a poem.
This is not a life.
No rhyme or meaning:
my words on a blank page,
your footsteps
going nowhere
so fast.
