i am lost in the canyon lands
traveling at night
i know not where
my only tools a knife and bandana
i sharpen sticks to dig damp sand
and squeeze water through the cloth
rarely there are rain puddles in the rock
i eat whatever i can find
that i think won’t kill me
topping a low rise at dawn
i see a far away road
a few decaying buildings
a long black car is parked on the road
i stagger to the limo and open the door
in the back sits a skinny ghostly figure
looking out the window
wearing dark glasses and an hawaiian shirt
it is my father
