leaving the desert

everywhere I go
I am missing
someplace I'm not

so I might as well go
I might as well go, I tell myself

I try to convince myself
it's time to go

but the weight in my pockets
of the possibilities here
the possibilities everywhere

are tearing-- I want to stay but they are tearing through

holes in my pockets
everything I'm picking up is falling right through

maybe I'm leaving a trail
maybe I'm leaving clues

and I don't know what I'm hoping to find
or what I am hoping
might find me but

at least there's
some sort of indication that I was here
briefly
and how long
before the vultures and gypsies
carry even
my small bleached bone trail
away

so find me
or let me find my way

soon