The Measure of a Fall

...inspired by the song 'Northbound 35' by Jeffrey Foucault Two hundred miles and counting, Kansas blacktop, batttling snow, visibility's poor, his sadness is mounting, from here to there he has nowhere to go. Lela left, took the kids and the horses, hostility raging and angry goodbyes, broken dishes and old, shattered promises, nothing but highway and tears in his eyes. Wichita, Lawrence, there's nobody waiting, mile upon mile with no real destination, no one to call, his memories grating, thinking the while of his elimination. Motels and hotels, the marks of community, churches that urge you to come on inside, Salvation Army, use them with impunity, doctors and hospitals serving with pride. Hope springs eternal, that's what they say, confidence builds as he goes on his way, to gather himself, shake it off, that is all, grace the true measure, the cure for a fall.