Jeremiah

Jeremiah left home,
trailed a two-ton truck
behind his back
chasing starless summer
nights that fled before him
     unchanging
     filled with
          childish games
          memories of ghost
          stories and trick-or-treats
          and long days under the sun
          running free with blades between
          his toes


He found instead
heat scorched desert
     bones
     bleached dry and
     picked clean
          alongside a wooden
          road-worn cross
Burnt asphalt
buried beneath heaves of
     endless winters,
     miles and miles
          with nothing left between
          but pine and rock

and the long red horizon
stretched out before his path

Watched, too,
ash fireflies flicked
aside,
tossed out from passing
headlights
searching
forging parallel paths
end to end opposing
     and they go

back to where he began
back to where he will
     never go again

© Dec. 28, 2005

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