Three thousand miles navigating a storm without drop of bad weather Abacus odometer clicks rotating forward ― spinning with the world go round
Circling back down a long and winding road; where unforgotten memories were once searchingly explored, untrodden pathways coursing way up north of alone on the low highway
Now an aging shepherd wonders without a compass ; a vagabond deprived of light from an ever blurring north star Heart empty as a gas tank with a broke down gauge, running on fumes of hope for unpromised tomorrows Running from loneliness just to be on the run
The gales of silence bellow No feelings I can see ― lay me low
Wild-eyed daydreams of Full sails billow out through the windshield, only hearing the unspoken moments sigh restlessly ― The dull droning road rumble re-sighs renunciatively, a tired monotone voice mimicking the loathe silent echo wallowing in an omnipresent hollow void deriding unspoken chaos between the passing centerlines ―
A frost heave pothole erupts, with a leaf-spring rattling thud, as a fleeting cloud of dust arises, set adrift with the draught headed off the east side of the Alcan highway: blown way outside the lines, towards the Alberta prairie
White knuckled steering wheel held sway, rolling down a beckoning wilderness reincarnation; default reset button paused ― stuck in a moment ― until another jaw rattling frost-heave pothole in the highway, jars it free
Leaving it all behind like a sigh breathed in a silence a heart has outgrown; just a fleeting cloud of dissipating dust,.. a paling whisper the past seems to send forth like a fading last breath
Letting it all unfold to become what it is
harlon rivers ... May 2018 ... travelogue 2 of some