Barefoot,
stripped of all things,
leaning against a sunset,
wet wind in my wings.

Fresh
muted clouds approaching,
hollow my mind,
body is at peace.

Inattention to
the storm brewing,
I stand my ground,
no care or worry.

Unannounced, the scent
whispers too sweet,
a mystery of change
awaiting me.

Treading the space
in the colors of my psyche,
I'm not afraid,
but lucid and ready.

Concocting this mirage
that appears too vividly,
the rainbow that shined
now drowns in white sea.

Barefoot,
I'm stripped of all things.

Riding the back seat is sticky
Thick hard hot upholstery
With vinyl strips that burn
But not as bad as the molten buckle
Are we there yet?
Hush!
My leg has a rectangular brand
You never told me to buckle up
I would have to teach you that later
Where are we?
Hush!
You told me it was so many hills away
Or this many Neil Diamond songs
And sang to me “You Are My Sunshine”
Although it was out of tune
And you don’t remember
I still hum it sometimes
When I’m distracted
*Are we there yet?

Any one with binoculars, here?
no one seems to see
what's happening over there,
what  would happen now?
only political currents will tell;
I  see more women cross over
in to no man's land, than ever.