The Benefits of Travel

There’s a dry and powdery snow here,
The trees on the mountains are sifted with it.
Wintry sun reflects on the pale chamisa,
Chamisa, sticky when a person gets too close.

I packed a suitcase full of past promises I thought I couldn't do without,
But I lost it through an inattentive baggage handler.

What happened to those worn and threaded schemes?
Where are the lamps that lit those epic trails,
Casting away a conquest here a pipe-dream there?
What happened to ‘I cannot live without you’?

Change came stumbling down the road, trampling and singing.