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I don’t want to be one of those white crosses alongside the highway.

Instead make me into a road sign that sends everyone in the right

direction, something like that.

Anyway, I was coming back from visiting my son, crossing the

high desert, and I was thinking about sitting there in his place and

all three of us sitting on his couch, me, my son, and his Disease,

and we were all talking and laughing about a possible new

woman in his life and how maybe, just maybe, the drugs were

working better, hilarious stuff.

And on the way home that high desert sky was off the charts,

orange replacing white, pink taking over for orange,

just like the million-year-old recipe for the perfect night it was

following and, even after it got dark, a little lightness hung above

the western sky as if giving hope to those who saw it.

And after the sun left, the moon stayed around and

the three of us sat there traveling together, the moon, me,

and Faith, the same Faith we talk about when we talk about

our belief that the world, against all its own odds, that the

world will be there to somehow take care of us along the

highways we’re supposed to travel.