gone by 9:30, gone by 11:00,
that's how a little brother leaves.
Birch leaves lifting off the bald roof
accelerating down the dirt driveway.
Five minutes later,
"Am I going the right way?"
The van didn't backfire once.
Last night, "what can I do to help Sam"?
"sign me for AIRS."
Aircooled Interstate Rescue Squad
a group of volunteers
"dedicated to assisting the intrepid VW traveler."
sputtering along like a bumblebee
Sam, the one compound eye, watching for moose
the eardrums, listening for changes in the hum
the monkey at the controls
piloting his exoskeleton box of rare earth minerals down the map,
across most of the atlas
across most of the lines
searching for the right colors
or are they searching for him?
It sure seems a long way.
[from Ben's email]