Alturas, California

poetry, travel,

Simple.

Alone, but surrounded

by sleeping people

A city town

Where I don’t belong

Where life moves slowly

I can count the cars

and the trucks

coasting down the main strip

Two cars meet

A rare occurrence

For this Monday night

at 9 something pm

Pacific Standard Time.

Where I’m a stranger

An east coast girl

A city girl

Who appreciates the stars

and bright venus on the horizon

Contented solitude

And a cigarette before bed.