souvenirs

you bought a ticket stow your bag overhead

headed out west to see cracked riverbeds

you talk to the saguaro like they are your friends

the answers aren't there and you round the bend

looking to the clouds for relief from the heat

removing your shoes, relieving your feet

you purchase the postcards to send from the trail

licked all the stamps and post them to mail 

you hike through the desert with the sun as your guide

no tan lines you show that you cannot hide 

time goes so fast and it's time to go home 

you pack up your heart, wishing the hours to slow 

a kiss for your lover and the ones you hold dear

heading back north, without souvenirs 

no answers to questions that continue to daunt

more now forthcoming and starting to haunt

put 'em in your backpack if just for one day

or leave them forever, keeping them at bay

Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License