31 July 2016

Wish you were here

You should’ve heard the honking
folks yawning
at sacred spaces, desperate to swivel forward
to the next Scenic View.

You would’ve liked the bear
who wasn’t there, the good trip
smells in the RV, walking
barefoot after a blizzard.

All the times we got lost
ended up in Maine and not New Hampshire
found ourselves locked in fog. You’d feel a
part of us, I suspect.

I insist you come next time, leave the county,
your California tea. Repeat this past, I pray.

Comments

  1. I really like this poem, Megan. I read it through several times and thought it has a “haunting” kind of feel to it. A great poem to put on a postcard.

  2. Last line: priceless!

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