Hitchhiking To Peru Poem by MARINA GIPPS

Once, out of the wind's accord,
I felt suspended
in flight. A motionless season
of cigarettes and rubbing alcohol
to numb the pain

Of what was actually happening
out on the blur
of losing things-
how the brain packs
for a roadtrip of facing
favorite destinations in a world atlas,
switching hemispheres for atmospheres
for a longer sun's lingering.

And who could I trust
to invite me
on a songbird evening
in an hour where rush traffic
polarizes and fends for itself-
How I was feeling.

So packing, I never really understood
the past I was taking
in a small american tourister
with no name and address-

Only hope for bring back
a piece of an Incan ruin,
eroded memory,
for broken American glass.