For Kaitlen

Falstaff

With my camera and my easel, my pen and my paper I search for my heart.
I drove the long road down to Cripple Creek to practice my art.

Rolling hills and mountians of granite and bright red stone.
Across the prairie and the streams where the coyotes makes his home.

I nearly ran over a tiny wandering soul.
on her back she carried her life and her bag and bed roll.

I stopped to offer her a bottled water or a ride.
she smiled and accepted and sat inside.

Where ya going I asked and she threw back her hair
she tied the long blond strands with a great deal of care.

She told me she was headed to Denver with her heart and her blues.
I marvelled at her story and offered to drive a little further but she refused.

No, she said she just wanted to stop somewhere along the way
make a phone call to her old man but things hadnt been going her way.

I could see she had miles on her shoes and her heart
she told me she was headed home before everything fell apart.

No money and no time to worry about tommorow and the rain that began to fall
I turned on the windshield wipers and the radio and and listened to it all.

Her name was Kaitlen after a mother she never knew.
She ran from her incestuous father, and their association was through.

An orphan by choice she followed a man who drove a semi truck.
she changed the station to country music and I knew she was down on her luck.

We chatted and we laughed and I knew she needed a break
I turned around and drove north and we headed for Palmer Lake.

Kaitlen was determined to find him somewhere on the way to town
she had a pretty good idea where her ole man could be found.

I pulled into a truck stop and offered to buy her a meal
but she ran to a black Peterbuilt and leaned against the wheel.

She waved to go on, and I went inside for a rest.
I wondered how long she would remain my guest.

A short walk outside, and I expected to see her gone.
I turned the key on the door and moved along.

Perhaps she found a ride and perhaps she found her man
I heard the loud blast of a Peterbuilt and saw her wave her hand.

Dwarfed by the size of the truck she was so small
I walked to the cab and felt the first drops of rain begin to fall

She reached out her hand and squeezed it with all she had.
Thankyou, and goodby, Im going home, she said

With a bitter sweet smile I told her that she should stay out of the rain.

She leaned way out of the window and blew me a kiss and told me to do the same.

With a courage and conviction that I can only guess.
Kaitlen was the highway and the sky, and that is what I will miss.

Zardon

excellent.

mainman

Awsome Jeff, real fine art!

Falstaff

Yeah, just thinkin of her now, when it rained tonight, I hope that old rig and her made it back home. She sure was lucky and I guess I was too.

Drakon

that was pretty good, jeff... was it based on a true experience?

Falstaff

Oh yeah, a fine young lady just down on her luck, I nearly missed her I guess, she was walking down the middle of the road trying to find some shelter as the wind began to pick up and the rain started to fall. I thought her car broke down, and I never did find out how she managed to get there so far from where ever she lived. She was a little damp, her hair smelled like balsam shampoo, and her shoes were worn clean through. Her skin was white like alabaster, a little blush form her ordeal in her cheeks, bright green eyes, bee stung lips and a long neck that disappeared into a set of strong shoulders. She wore a pair of 501 pants, and an old tie dye tshirt.She was a tough kid for sure. She looked so young, never asked her age. But she looked right into my eyes as we talked and she seemed to have a lot on her mind. I probably would have taken her to Denver and believed every word she said. I only hope that was her ole man in that black Peterbuilt, but somehow, I know she will manage. Wandering souls, we meet them now and again, it reminds me that all of us have a journey and path we travel in life. I felt honored to help her out a little, and enjoy the enchantment between two strangers that meet under such circumstances.
Life is too short, I am glad I got a chance to be a gentleman.