After clambering away
From all the other tourists
Desperate to be alone
With disinterested nature,
Through the pink monkey flower,
Parish poppies, purple sand
Verbena, yellow evening
Primrose, and the ghost flowers,
We waded back in the sand
To the side of the paved road,
Climbed into the car and drove
Over the dipping ribbons
Of the patched-up highways, past
Lemon groves and date-palm farms
Northwest of the Salton Sea,
Past the oddball gas station
Of a small intersection
That sold crickets by the box,
Snacks for human consumption,
Past the past that ghosted us,
The time we passed through Needles
As an intact family
Dragging a trailer,
Five years earlier,
Daughter a toddler,
Past but not past everything,
Memories making
Dented memories
Of words moving and breathing.
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