TWO PIECES OF DRIFTWOODLet them find us, years from now, washed of color, eased of burden, elegantly perched side-by-side: Two pieces of driftwood at rest in the high desert. And when that day comes, in that ineluctable present, let them falsely imagine that our journeys herewere straightforward. That our independent migrations somehow synchronized. A history of wild togetherness.But o god please also let them sense the truth of it. A remote yet unmistakable, unhindered astonishment at our having arrived he … (read more)
