heavy cessna

just about that time, key switched and everything charged, we rolled, mid morning, into the bright and bone barren desert. this day was 87 north bound for a bit and off on to some side roads, into everywhere we never knew existed. fifty miles in, with the car now near over heating, we pressed on. pressed on with windows wide rolled down entirely, the heater on high just to keep it cool, and the sun, blistering its way to the tarmac and crust and car. about 2500 feet up from sea level, she quit on us, gave out and started to steam. you, with your bathing suit top on, hood, trunk, and doors open, windows rolled down, kept your charm, smiled waved and waited as we were stuck on roadside waiting for the cool to come back. we climbed high and took photos of Red, our better half below. we were on our way to make more marks on our map and i remember. the map, the one thats so tightly folded into these memory banks, packed with such care in a box where nothing could ever happen to it. nothing because its deep with-in everything i know and as my memory fades due to unforeseen circumstances, the sound of every passing jet, now over head in san jose, makes me wonder...if i did, where we would be. tearing me up, draggin me down, wondering about wandering. winters short stints of days, drug on with lingering long shadows. only familiar due to missed memories. "if she gives up..." ...and billy knows the rest.