"Who wants to understand the poem must go to the Land of Poetry"
...... Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe
With age, I've learned to watch my feet.
I've become cautious of falls,
the honest frailty of bones
and equally fragile, the choices
found at every crossroad.
Time makes us bend.
We learn the habit
of looking down.
I was blessedly no where
just some where between
between "here" and "there"
a truck stop off I-40
falling off the edge of the world
into a nameless desert town,
into a sweet black halcyon midnight.
After a summer rain
wet, shining asphalt
the smell of diesel, and chaparral
(below me, some where between
my feet and eternity) reflected,
you made your puddled,
and faithful Sirius, the dog star.
Antares, the scorpion's tail,
dancing in Indra's shining jewel net.
And the Big Dipper
Lauren Raine (2003)