(I came across a poem I started in March of 2012 and decided to finish it. It's the follow up to one I wrote in June of 2006, called retrospect: what I found instead.)
One time I drove for hours,
crossed a state line, walked unfamiliar streets
where I imagined I might find him.
Peace wasn't there.
I met his brother instead-
He sneaked up silently
and kept me company on the drive home.
That time, it was enough for me.
Lately, though, I am missing him.
I think of Peace's warmth,
his arm around my shoulder,
and I find myself in search of him again.
I'd drive to Cheyenne,
but he wouldn't be there.
And I probably won't find him next week
in the desert
on the sandstone
in the endless expanse of sky.
So I write him letters,
I look at maps,
I meander down side streets and
I ask others if they have seen him.
Some have
but they can't say more;
They can't say why Peace eludes me.
His brother-
His brother, Quiet, likely knows,
but I elude Quiet just as Peace eludes me.
I fidget
I search
I consult maps, friends, books.
I keep company with Noise, instead.
I drive across state lines
again and again,
leaving Quiet
alone on my couch,
alone
with the answers
I've gone looking for.
