Driving into Moab there were
places along the way he didn’t

remember. He hopes it is be-
cause he had his eyes on the

road last time, still….They are
way out west now but because

of the season, he thinks about
falls gone before, colors chang-

ing, leaves dropping and mornings
waiting for the school bus in the

bone chilling darkness. He knew
for sure he had been there, in

part, because he remembers his
mother’s shrill voice yelling

as he left the house, “Zip up
your jacket. You’ll catch a

death of cold.”