A journey

     I like to close my eyes every so often, blocking out the light and finding myself in a daydream. The house is quiet, and the memory highway is open. There are beautiful places I see, places I have traveled and places only I can find again. I go both backward and forwards but rarely to the present. Having only recall doesn't count. I ride the memory highway back many decades when friends were real and good times a way of life. Camping in the forests with the sweet smells of weed and patchouli as music filled the air beckoning all to come, have a seat by the fire and get lost in the moment.

     Further down my highway I am a young boy just discovering who I was and who I would never be. Time changed some of those visions, but I always kept dreaming interrupted by the closing of a door and bags being set down on the kitchen counter. I smell her patchouli and hear her flowing skirt approach me.” having a journey” she whispers in my ear I pulled her on top of me and held her tightly. "I was waiting for you," I said. "Let’s go for a ride."

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