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