Go West: Day 4: Utah & Nevada
I was inspired this morning to write a poem.
I had an experience which was odd, sad and intriguing, before 8:00 a.m. on a local Utah highway. I thought to myself, ‘if only I had time to sit and turn this into a poem. But I have a task to do – DRIVE.’ Within 40 seconds a sign promised ‘REST STOP 1 MILE’ and I laughed to myself. Yes, yes, I can make time. There’s always time to create a poem.
***
Nightcrawlers $2.49
Had to stop – had to.
Decades faded, wooden plank promising:
GAS, ANTIQUES, BAIT
Wouldn’t you?
Three dozen miles from any national chain,
a McDs, hell,
an intersection
the Hilside Stop crossed its boney arms
jutting defiantly amidst scrag trees and
half-submerged crucifixes
trapping telephone wires.
Matthew Shepard died
in hills like these
crucified, gasping, perhaps,
‘Am I alone?’
She nods, surprised.
Me too, surprised. That at 7:54 a.m. this
Utah morning we should fine ourselves facing one another like this.
‘How do you live?’ I want to ask her
‘Do you ache for company or are these stone hills
crowding you like grumbling, brothers crumbling?
‘Are these sandy striations horizontal prison bars?
Or are you finally, absolutely home?
What things howl at night here?
Who leaves footprints in the erosion?’
But instead I thanked her
for the Diet Pepsi and she nodded.
We said our lines, nice day, etc.
and I left,
alone
