Tumbleweeds by Jeff Kilpatrick

A tumbleweed has crossed my path and it was unlike any other.                     

This path is littered with tumbleweeds;

Short-term unions of time and space with a relatively unknown.                    

Most are meaningless, forgettable.

Others you get close to and they leave scratches;

Festering scars of regret.                    

A rare few turn and travel with you,

Pushed by the same wind, drawn by the same energy;

Only to separate when that wind shifts.                     

It’s a one-way path and I can’t go back.

If I could, I would.                      

I should like to see that tumbleweed again.

Jeff Kilpatrick has a PhD in Historical Linguistics and teaches Italian and Linguistics at the University of Georgia. He lives in Athens, GA with his wife and two children. His work can be seen in Westward Quarterly, Page & Spine, The Journal of Language and Literacy, and will soon appear in The Stray Branch.