High Desert Haiku
As
the city sleeps
We
pull out of the driveway
with
headlights on.
Aroma
of sage
makes
its way through the wind-wing,
(the
desert greets us).
Along
the highway
(in
the distance, bare mountains)
a
rusty wire fence.
We
eat lunch.
Sitting
in the shade
of
the truck.
In
my face and nose
the
hot wind off the asphalt.
Route
Three-Ninety-Five.
Nauseous
from the heat
they
bought me a Bubble Up
to
sip in the truck.
We
forsake Lone Pine
for
the black asphalt ribbon.
Big
Pine awaits us.
We
found Manzanar,
before
the first Pilgrimage,
abandoned
and dry.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
This is a work in progress.
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