Elizabeth Ross Taylor

Find Me

by my trail of fragments,
                                       stale crumbs,
       green broken boughs
         of protocol.
             Footprints
all missteps,

    tatters of sackcloth
       on the undergrowth,

confused backtracks.
        A rough HELP
lipsticked on a map
    tossed out too far
          with backbite cream.
                                      Here

left the highway

          for the woods
pressed jungleward.       Discover

a trace of desiccated residue
          staining a sheet of paper

struggling to speak.