He likes driving the high grounds
Through Badlands and ghost towns
Holding fort up north –
Among the lost and found
Sticks and bones
And graves of unknowns.
Looking at sunrise and sunsets
Starry nights too.
Visions too good to be true.
Lost in a moment of you
Not keeping time.
When darkness aligns
He looks for scorpions he hasn’t met
Wearing boots and a flash light
He leaves no stone unturned,
But the pesky crawlers have all adjourned.
Not all those who wander are lost.
© Colleen Yorke. All rights reserved. 2015