On Hitchhiking

On Hitchhiking


I stood, stoop-shouldered
on the side of the road
waiting, forever waiting
to ease this load
beside a path known to me

I found a spot
all shaded and green
and surrendered
my cares of the road
before walking on
stoop-shouldered

I keep bits of knowledge
in the hollow of my cheek
chewing them instead of food
but they can't satisfy me
give me garbage
strange refuse
of other people's forgetting

I am weary of this journey
that never started out
to be anything at all

That I could be a bird and fly
or, a buffalo and die
on some spot
shaded and green
(eternally green)