everglade

who was it that i left behind
in gas stations across america
in bedrooms marked with an x
in letters dotted with an i
in churches named after sinners
in hotels with leaky dreams
in days dressed up like nights
in arms that don’t fit
and hands that don’t hold
the washed out skies that forgot
what it is to be blue

there’s so much to see
that sometimes
you don’t even end up looking