I Thought I Heard Shorebirds

I stopped one day for you the door sailed open I simply said break away with me it was that immediate.

Remote horizons murmured a destination fresh maps in hand paper rustling green and blue lines converging in the far off distance but you – your passion was the journey hot desert sun shone that twirling burning star blurred in heated fumes of exhausted fuel spent carbon polluted voices calling us to slow down and coast but we kept a pace insistent.

I longed for deep ocean waves crashing against the limits of the yellow-orange shore that burning star maintained our course we underneath it continued.

I thought I heard shorebirds singing like screeching tires that started false too fast in piercing anticipation.

The straightaway was unpaved in parts like someone simply forgot to finish blacktop as an afterthought I hoped the foundation was enough but my ride was not equipped for such constant abrasion.

I tried to carry on when I finally broke down you got out and walked hitching a convenient ride from a cloaked passerby.

You returned alone to push we both knew that couldn’t last drifting in lazy circles and no power behind it.

Drawn to the raging coolness of a nearby river I washed away in the uncertainty of wide rolling currents flooding a future that slipped behind iron bars noticed by no one.

Now in my four eggshell corners I can’t remember how I came to be here or what became of you but sometimes still in my busy travels I coast on well-paved lakes of hardened tar to the smooth marble mansions of the city reflecting in my eye like a gleaming speck of golden sand scratching the surface stuck in the periphery.

My eyes well slightly like the rarest desert rain I blink away toward dusty side streets and wonder if you are still walking there wandering and it really was about the journey all along.

Maybe it’s best not to question those ancient maps they call to me well-preserved in intricate wooden boxes dark blue and lacking air those cool ocean waves you finally reached I hear and they remind me now of my youthful delusion – that I could make my way alone.

But no one should navigate the darkness without a compass.

And you were mine then.

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