deepundergroundpoetry.com
Roadside At The Dustbowl
We took shelter by the roadside
opening the flaps just long enough
to catch a little color from the distant sunset
then the sand started to roll in.
We weren't worried so much about abrasion as we were about
breathing.
I still felt its grit upon my skin...
I put on a mask to hide my lips from this,
in hopes that a smile could still be visible.
She told me there was no point in making supper,
there wasn't any way for creature comforts.
We had come to a desolate area, where wolves fed on anything that moved; howling at the distance and truly...
it was excruciating.
Earlier I was trying to pack everything we had in the trunk of the car.
She scolded me and told me, most of it was useless.
"Why do you think we need this old lamp?"
She was right, I was just sentimental about it and many other useless things, that I kept trying to sneak in the boot.
I can remember the day we picked that out; I remember how that road felt under my feet as we walked to that little store.
It was solid footing, She had her arm around me and I had walked in with her lipstick still stained to my neck.
She picked it out of course and I agreed, it was lovely; I liked how the pearlescent base captured every reflection.
How the eyes were instantly glued to the designs in the shade; these somehow matched our stairs back home.
To Her it was just simply trash now, something old and used, ready to be discarded.
I nodded, I guess she was right...to me things that I deem special never cease being so.
I accumulate these things and She calls me a "junk man" for it.
She undeniably kept Us light for travel, ready to run whenever possible.
I knew the reasonings, I understood its importance; yet I will never not, feel the pain of letting go of something we shared.
Moments of happiness and laughter are snapshots and post-signs to life shared.
I am forever wanting the new, no matter how simple.
Even here within this tent, this moment will forever burn to my memory.
The detail of its fabric, the sound of its zipper; Her shadow laying quietly in the corner.
I kiss Her goodnight and tell Her "I love You" while She snores.
She wakes just enough to mumble "Gnight."
So I fix my mask back on, wander outside yet again.
Trying my best to see in the darkness, through the cloud and haze;
I knew there were lights on further up the road, you just couldn't see them from this distance.
I held faith we were on the right road, that we would find what we had wished for.
It never matters which point we are at, to my old soggy self.
All I care about is the journey and seeing Her smile in my direction; I follow Hers...to me that's my only compass.
opening the flaps just long enough
to catch a little color from the distant sunset
then the sand started to roll in.
We weren't worried so much about abrasion as we were about
breathing.
I still felt its grit upon my skin...
I put on a mask to hide my lips from this,
in hopes that a smile could still be visible.
She told me there was no point in making supper,
there wasn't any way for creature comforts.
We had come to a desolate area, where wolves fed on anything that moved; howling at the distance and truly...
it was excruciating.
Earlier I was trying to pack everything we had in the trunk of the car.
She scolded me and told me, most of it was useless.
"Why do you think we need this old lamp?"
She was right, I was just sentimental about it and many other useless things, that I kept trying to sneak in the boot.
I can remember the day we picked that out; I remember how that road felt under my feet as we walked to that little store.
It was solid footing, She had her arm around me and I had walked in with her lipstick still stained to my neck.
She picked it out of course and I agreed, it was lovely; I liked how the pearlescent base captured every reflection.
How the eyes were instantly glued to the designs in the shade; these somehow matched our stairs back home.
To Her it was just simply trash now, something old and used, ready to be discarded.
I nodded, I guess she was right...to me things that I deem special never cease being so.
I accumulate these things and She calls me a "junk man" for it.
She undeniably kept Us light for travel, ready to run whenever possible.
I knew the reasonings, I understood its importance; yet I will never not, feel the pain of letting go of something we shared.
Moments of happiness and laughter are snapshots and post-signs to life shared.
I am forever wanting the new, no matter how simple.
Even here within this tent, this moment will forever burn to my memory.
The detail of its fabric, the sound of its zipper; Her shadow laying quietly in the corner.
I kiss Her goodnight and tell Her "I love You" while She snores.
She wakes just enough to mumble "Gnight."
So I fix my mask back on, wander outside yet again.
Trying my best to see in the darkness, through the cloud and haze;
I knew there were lights on further up the road, you just couldn't see them from this distance.
I held faith we were on the right road, that we would find what we had wished for.
It never matters which point we are at, to my old soggy self.
All I care about is the journey and seeing Her smile in my direction; I follow Hers...to me that's my only compass.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 9
reading list entries 2
comments 14
reads 999
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.