Friday, July 3, 2009

Picking up a Hitchhiker

I

Am

The

One at

The wheel

And you have

Your hands on

My shoulders from

Behind the seat. You

tell me that you’re so

dreadfully grateful, you

grin and yell that we are

Leaving and never coming

Back, and I look at your eyes

As they peer into the rearview

Mirror. They are so blue that

I’d gladly never see the sky again

If I could stare into those pools

Of yours. We’ll have more time

Once we pull over for a pit stop,

Of course. Funny to think that I

Found you there on the side of

the road with no belongings but

ripped jeans and a white t-shirt

and combat boots and a dirty

knapsack. You looked so rough

I almost didn’t pull over, but I

Saw your face, gazing into me

Through the windshield, trying

To catch my eye. Then I knew I

Had to pull over to help you. I

Know something’s happened to

You and you don’t have to tell

Me what, but I picked you up for

a reason, and

I want you to

Know that you

can talk to

me if you’d

like to. I didn’t

catch your

name by

the way. My
name is-

What’s in

your hand?

I just saw

something

flash in the

mirror. Never-

mind, it’s

probably my

imagination.

Sorry, I was

Saying, my

Name is- why

Are you…

Why are you

Laughing?

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