Down at the bus station
drunks and drifters
prepare to sail away
to somewhere
anywhere
away from here
as if you could
somehow get away
from you
You're not of that ilk
but with a little letting go
you could be
The woman
in the adjacent seat
is talking to someone
that isn't you
and you surmise
it must be God
Out your window
snowflakes plummet
onto an empty plain
and there is your God
Darkness descends
with only the open road
and the cold stars
beaming out yesterday
This is where you belong
and there is no forgetting
