12/1
Sonnets From Other Lives: Easy

The black sky of the desert fills with starts.
The night is moonless—void of competition
save the headlights from the passing cars
out there on the highway. Easy’s wishing
he was in one now & heading west.
Ain’t much point in hitching in the dark
so he lays his bindle down. He’ll get some rest
tonight then in the morning he’ll embark
again on his journey to nowhere—
always moving—always on the way
to something somewhere—it’s not like he cares—
he likes to think that it’s the hand of fate--
but Easy refuses his reflection--
lest it reveal some unknown connection.