1.
An exodus splits the ocean of corn,
ninety minutes from Kirksville,
country miles rolling under the wheels.
Each turn of locomotion cuts
thick summer air, twilight
putting to rest lazy daydreams
Imagination, the cheapest
way to travel, pulls fuel
from wells of dinosaurs.
Bring the mind
unearth the body.
2.
Recent news of Baxter
falling to his death
while climbing cliffs
at Yosemite grips me.
My foothold
slips on the pedal.
I stop to reminisce
about days of flight
in back rooms
of Taylor East,
climbing to altitudes,
stoned and stupefied.
3.
I’ve made a plunge
in these plains, curating
expired dreams.
Landlocked, save for a few
majestic rivers, my return
to the sea seems remote
a thousand miles upstream.
Copyright © 2024 Zak Wardell
All Rights Reserved
Zak Wardell’s science education landed him a career as a physics instructor teaching non-science majors. He majored in physics and earned a minor in creative writing at UMBC, left Baltimore in 1995 to attend graduate school at the University of Missouri in Columbia, and received a Ph.D. in physics in 2003. His poetry has been published in six volumes of Interpretations, a project of the Columbia Art League, and in The Loch Raven Review, Lothlorien, and Last Stanza.

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