the traveler

the present comes in fragments
traffic lights are stagnant

you've learned to pack lightly
no gems, no buckles, no stones

you've learned to watch your back
you've learned to walk alone
you use me as your base
use me as your throne

you've learned to hide your tracks
you've learned to mute your phone
then use me as your base
use me as your home

the wind grinds its teeth
the highway rarely speaks
unless you give it all of your money
expose the soft parts of your feet

traveler
you've gone about it all wrong
with the crack down the middle
that wordless song

cradled, stranded
cross roads
sore thumbs
heavy loads