Poetic Asides Getting...

 Getting Lost

I’ve become quite adept at getting lost.

One time, camping, as teenagers,

my friend and I walked in the woods

while my parents went fishing.

I didn’t want to go back the same way we came.

We got completely lost, then found a road.

We followed it until a single car went by

and we asked directions.

We arrived just before my parents returned,

saving them some worry time.

One time, I dropped my sister off in Lincoln

so she could return something at the store.

As the rain poured,

I was to drive around the block.

I didn’t want to go back the same way I came.

As I weaved my way through the streets,

my sister waited in the rain.

When I finally found her

she was pretty upset and wet

She has forgotten about it. I haven’t.

One time, a friend and I would go shopping

But first she had to finish a college project.

I’d walk around the unfamiliar campus

and meet her in an hour.

I didn’t want to go back the same way I came.

Three hours later I found her.

I had forgotten the name of the building.

“Hens lick,” she said flapping her arms

and wiggling her tongue in and out.

I still remember if forty years later.

In finding another way back

I discovered some interesting things,

but it took me awhile to learn

I don’t always have to be a trailblazer.

Retracing steps can be a good thing.

Especially for those who worry about you,

are getting wet, or are waiting to go shopping.