"Travel"

I wake--nearly wake to the crawling tickle at my cheek. Though wincing eyes and crusties, I see shelves of basalt loom just above the tops of Douglas fur. When you hit the snooze on Mother Nature's first alarm clock, she sends swarms of insects to wake you. Six legged army scouts from the homes I slept in last night. I sink further into my synthetic cocoon. Where am I? Who am I? My brain forces one foot in the waking world. If it's just me, it's brain damage, but I never know who or where I am for the first few minutes spent waking up. This time grows exponentially on the road. Nostrils fill with earthy thin air. A subtle touch of dust and sulfur. I sink further into my cocoon. I meditate on this chunk of time where I am nobody. Nowhere.