Castaway

He likes driving the high grounds
Through Badlands and ghost towns
Holding fort up north –
Among the lost and found
Another battleground
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
All names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this blog are fictitious. No identification with actual persons, places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred. © All rights reserved.