INQUEST

I wandered alone down roads of dirt
That went on for miles uncounted
I drove along fields of lettuce and cotton
And splashed in summer’s ditches
I carefully watched the landscape
as it read my mind aloud
and the colors became me as I became
purple and indigo blue
I spoke to the sky and wondered why
It never seemed to answer
And the trees had faces but most were scary
So I didn’t talk to them
I traveled for miles hundreds it seemed
On my journey within a circle
Yet somehow when I passed again the
Same way the landscape was always anew
I wandered alone down desert roads
And the years were seventeen
And on my tour of inquisition
I met a woman like me
At times I glimpsed a shadow of her
Or the hem of her flowing skirt
We passed without a whisper on days
When silence was more than a word
She’s still there, I know she is
I wonder who she sees
But even more I wonder
If she ever thinks of me

CYNTHIA MARSH