Reno to San Diego

I met you at the bus station,
bag in hand, ready to flee.
I met you there thinking
I was running away from life,
looking for a new start with all
new questions to answer.
I met you with my
grandmother’s wide brimmed hat
and a pocket of loose change
rattling on about the lust of adventure.
Sitting side by side on the bench,
watching the bus pull up.
I met you there.
But I left myself behind.
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