Tecopa, US

Facing back in a flatbed truck; sun-painted legs 
wedged up against the side. Hair in my eyes, in my mouth 
yet I can see for miles. Shaking the dirt from well-walked boots 
and scuffing the cracked heels. From the dirt to the sky 
to the salt under the wheels; wire-sprouting limbs of sticks 
press out through the earth. Dried crisp by the melting sun 
and grazing past hot rubber. Thick with dust and sweat 
keeping me alive and moving.