Greetings
I counted the water towers, I counted the active smokestacks.
These were the breadcrumbs I thought would lead me back. Now
I know it’s possible to drive so far we forget why we left, that the
journey continues even after the car breaks down. I used to think
I had no message, but the message is me—bloodshot and hungry,
spilled coffee down the front of my shirt. People of the future,
gather round. I have traveled through ink to greet you.
Credit
Copyright © 2018 Charles Rafferty. Used with permission of the author. This poem originally appeared in The Cincinnati Review, Winter 2018.
Date Published
06/04/2018