Recalling an incident that filled me with Dread. A poem. By Lita

by journieus

Those awkward good-byes

the lump in my throat,

we avoid eye contact.

Chatter of voices, impetuous fellow students,

pushing their way through.

It’s time to go home and I’ll be leaving soon.

1960 Red VW Van

Packed with personal items,

room enough for us.  

Our father, our mother, sister, brother and I.

Relocating to the desert.

A tiny town in the middle of no where.

Highway stretches, no end in sight.

Hawks fly over,

jack rabbits scurry thru cacti,

litter of trash paints the road side.

Abandoned shoe, rusty bent coke can,

dirty white tee.

I wonder who it belonged to.

Endless trek and the sun burns my face.

Air is dry, are we there yet?

No one will say.

Timeless travel, I awake from sleep,

catching my first glimpse of a body of water,

the color blue opal

Lake.

Round we go to the town near by,

empty, deserted,

I quietly cry.

Confused and frightened,

we pull up, I spy.

Track housing made of concrete blocks,

yellow, dried grass and

muddy pot holes.

Reluctant to exit, I grab my suitcase,

head up to the front door.

Worn, dirty, and stained at the base.

My heart is hurting.  Dreading this place.

This is my new home, and

I hate the unknown.

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