Going to Alaska

I am on my way to Alaska
Hitching a ride with
a long-haul trucker

Just me, a pair of sneakers
on my feet, blue jeans
a short sleeved shirt
light jacket, just the clothes
on my back
and nothing more.

Maybe not apropos
for the cold frontier
north-lands
I’m heading for.

But then I was never
ready or proper
for anything
place or thing
I found myself in.

The air through Canada
clear and crisp;
late spring,
flowers just dreaming –
of a bloom.

Gliding across the border
Snow capped mountain peaks
a land vast,
open and
free I see.

He drives to
his destination
I thank him for the ride
and conversation
he did provide;
been a journey to
remember.

I walk from here
till there are
no roads to follow,
towards the edge
of this beautiful
open land.

Finally a trail, a path I find
up through a valley
and along gentle
mountain slopes.

Right up next to a
damned fence
it seemed to go,
all the way
no end in sight.

The path looks well-worn;
there are others
walking too.

I think we are all
looking for
home,
past the edge,
the fence
that holds us in
or keeps us out.

I meet another;
she is as angry as me
Pissed at life
the bull-shit
of not being where
she
belongs.

Wants to be
left
alone;
so do I.
Don’t know why
we even spoke
but soon our conversation
turned us round and
back down the path we
both were on.

I don’t know what
it’s all about but,
I have to go it alone.

The path, I see,
was worn by
those who turned back
not by those who kept
going to the end.

I had to bid her good-by
and find the end
of that fence
that hems me in.

I have to find the door,
the passage that leads
me from this foreign world.

Have to find it before
winter sets in
I am ill prepared to
survive the storms.
I know they will
surely be my end.

Then,
maybe they
are the way
which will finally
set me free
and
home to be.

Note:
I had this dream just before I woke today, the frame upon which this was written. Had to write it down before I left for work, so it is still rough and a work in progress.
Then just as I was leaving, before I shut the door, in the distance I hear distinct sound of a Jake-brake of truck trailer rig off in the distance. A call perhaps, telling me it is time to go.