Tracks I have caught this bus for years. I can follow the tracks it lays in my memories like a concrete walk. I watch a slow car fall behind the bus, while I embrace the memories as I do my friends. My thoughts continue back to old friends I have not seen in years. I saw some choose evil paths and embrace them as pets. I remember the railway tracks that took two friends. One was in a car. I descend the bus stairs to the stop's walk. I wait for my connection, and watch pedestrians walk past. I see no friends. They all commute by car. Perhaps I will in a few years. Time will make its tracks. I spot my bus and step into its embrace. As I leave Salt Lake, I ponder your embrace. My mind turns to the walk we took along the railroad tracks. We walked as friends do. We talked of past years. The bus cuts off a car. I wish we had not talked in a borrowed car, as I drove through the night's embrace. But, because of my twenty-two years I am still a child, and unable to walk on my own. So I watch my wiser friends, and long to follow in their tracks. A train follows the tracks along the rush hour freeway, filled with car after car. Soon I will be home were I can visit friends or go to my room and embrace its solitude. Or maybe, I will just walk; but not 500 Miles. That would take years. I wave to friends who pass me in a car. I decide to walk along the tracks, and embrace my future that I'll remember in years. -T. Gene Davis