Beyond the Internet, but not the ubiquitous Dollar General

Winding through the green pavements of the upstate border road

Carolina green dreams.

Sway down a dirt drive to a distillery made by Florida pirates

Falling slats of shacks showing a gleaming barrel inside

Barking dog on the hill tells me no one is home

Left thirsty.


Long an expatriate in a foreign land,

Adopted by a cold California mountain.

Pines, bold obsidian, sandy path

Almost forty years in Sierra wilderness,

The high desert home, until

I left, thirsty


South, the music is right

Like rainy afternoons followed by the steaming green.

True in my heart to dance with a cousin,

Touch okra and taste tomatoes.

My bifurcated soul spans this country

Stretches tight, snaps back.

Neither blue ocean, neither side slakes my thirst


Even with whiskey, I thirst.