We were on our
way to California
But that night
We went to
drink
And see what
might happen
After shaving
and washing
In the stream
Next to our
campsite
We packed our
things
And headed into
Santa Fe
Full of the
kind of anticipation
That being on
the road brings
In the bar next
to us
Sat an older
man
His worn face
Was ravaged by
sorrow
Despite the mug
of beer
He clenched in
his fist
Or perhaps
Because of it
We started
talking
As strangers in
bars often do
To my surprise
He said he was
a poet
As he pulled a
book out of his pocket
With a black
and white
Photo of the
desolate west
On the cover
And handed it
to me
A dark haired
woman
Stood beside me
Looking over my
shoulder
As I skimmed
through the pages
Until I came to
the title poem
At the end of
the book
When I had
finished reading
The poem
I looked up
At the average
looking man
A man
Who could have
passed
For any man
Anywhere
There was
something different
About him now
Other than the
smile on his face
After I bought
him a beer
Something that
caused me
To see him
In a whole new
way
I never could
have guessed
A man posing as
another lost drunk
Anxious to
remember the past
When he was
young
And women still
wanted him
Could have
written such a thing
It was good
Very good
The poem
Was about many
things
But mostly
It was about
desperation
And let me tell
you
This man
Did not hide
his desperation
And for that
I respected him
Unlike all
those happy people
Who hide
everything
Later that
night
After the poet, Kell Robertson,
had left
My friend
Encouraged
By my need to
observe
Walked up to a
couple of girls
And began a
conversation
About something
We ended up
going back
With one of
them
To her place
Her friend was
less adventurous
So, it was just
the three of us
She was so
drunk
We had to pull
her boots off for her
As she puked
all over herself
Just before she
passed out
I felt bad for
my friend
He was hoping
to get lucky
In the morning
She thanked us
For pulling her
boots off
As we ate
breakfast
After she gave
my friend
Her phone
number
We said goodbye
And were on our
way
When you’re on
the road
Far from home
Far from
familiar faces
Far from
everything
You once knew
and believed in
The kindness of
a trusting stranger
Is enough to
keep you going
When it seems as
though
There is
nothing left but memories
And they are
nothing more
Than yesterday
A yesterday
that is a thousand miles away
What is most
beautiful of all
Is that it happens
When you least
expect it
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