across west Texas in search of a city
Arizona looking for a flower
northern California
chasing the shadow of a cloud
often she rides with me
she whose face I never see
only her long hair
red sometimes, white, dark brown
she dresses in leathers
or else jeans
slender as the ladies I used to date
she adds urgency to the search
we stop and ask for directions
then ride someplace I almost remember
and get there knowing
this isn’t it either
not where we’ll find
whatever we look for
I wake and Lindy waits and holds
a dose of wakefulness for under
each side of my tongue
beside her a bottle of water
outside the sounds of Los Angeles
my Harley a memory
until I dream again
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