Chinati
Chinati
Out there, in the twilight
The furthest peak of the nearest horizon
a cold outline, silent
but more to feast the eyes on
Than a feast of fried eggs and bacon.
When, with what fades with each morning
and holds my gaze with days closing,
calls out to me from that afar,
I'll question such drifting.
Question living for turning on a dime
and riding days and weeks,
arriving penniless and spent,
without two cents to lend
and only my own hat to eat;
While always looking back, towards Chinati.
Yet, at night while I sleep
It cleverly holds care
To only pester me politely,
and not follow too close behind me
lest it pulls me from my tent at night
and I wake up there
Thinking I'm dreaming.
Copyright © Trey Pearson | Year Posted 2016
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