four years
for years I have been walking through this wasted terrain trying to find a way from this lost state
picking up shards of what seemed to be pieces of what I was seeking nonetheless proving a fools errand
these
scraps have wilted away as I tried to hold them in my tattered pockets
like Cabeza de Vaca I have gone days stripped of any clothing that gave me a sense of myself
made bare to the elements of hours in scorching sun
light fills my head from this vantage point
light can blind
light can strike
light can pierce and tear cells into shreds
in words I can not yet form on a page
I have not returned would that I could but rather
turned entirely into something else
titled as if I am found alas
it is not that
not found resigned to walk lost
and to walk