Venturing out of Texas

Crossing the east line

Back along highways bordered by swamps

I wander through southern, salty mists

along rows of plantations

harboring the past

like ghost caretakers who live there

heat fuels humidity

like steam through a boiler

mosquitoes big as helicopters

At a roadside cafe

fish and gator

thick Cajun accents

laugh at my curiosity

the road, the swamp, the mystery

fans out before me

Mindful of the speed traps

I enter a heavy hung woods

swamp veiled with a voodoo curtain

people live on the houseboat

near the heart of the river

 I’m at a loss

beguiled, I momentarily succumb

and just let time stop

through thickness and unfamiliarity

until I can find my way



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