Wish you were here
You should’ve heard the honking
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.