I’d been in California with him too long.
Tired of the lies, drugs, pain.
I sat at the overlook in San Bernardino,
thinking of the Appalachians,
soft, damp breezes, hardwood forests,-
He was asleep-passed out
when I got back to the cabin.
Good, I thought,no hard goodbyes.
I packed the few things I cared about,
started the engine of my old van
and watched the dust behind me.
Was that a song, a book?
Didn’t matter-the sun was to my back,
pushing me eastward-
to peace, to healing, to welcoming arms.
All I had to do was stay on I-40
until I could breathe again.