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Wednesday, May 18, 2022

Hidden Baggage

Hidden Baggage

We bring baggage on these trips
Even when we're alone sitting
In an old person's room
With spider webs hanging
In the corners

I bring the Black Hills
With my own thoughts
Of Mt. Rushmore.
Plus all the people
We took as guests there
Through old days years
People expect their local friend
To act as tour guide
No it's okay I'll wait
I've been here hundreds of times
I don't need to hear or see
The hypocrisy again
It's tattooed on my body and brain
Invisibly with nothing ink

Then a satchel full of stories
Spread each time we visit
The poets house on the far hill
On the curb with the view
That's ok in the waves
Of chipmonks and noisy children

Off to the buffalo
Stay in the jeep cannot
Yeah he's two feet away
Thinking he'll horn your face
Hanging out the window
A hundred degrees in the shade
Nice crop of sage this year
Pick it and get caught
You'll pay your fine
Before the college loan
Leave the rock
Public property
Fingerprints are traceable

Now the flight back to Rapid City
Or Deadwood or Sturgis
The headline reads
Tourist Gored by Buffalo
I remember that lady behind
Us on the Harley
No update on condition
But I know the buffalo
Is smirking once again

Barry G. Wick

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