It's so empty here my thoughts go out to cross the plains.

Like sonar, if they would touch anything,

They would bounce back to meet me

With the shape of that recognition.

But as it is, I'm in no condition to recognize,

Or identify.

And so it's good that my thoughts go out for miles and miles.

They may never return.

They go search out a vacuous place,

On the wild goose chase I have sent them on,

So I can be alone

While I am chasing you in my mind,

My coveted Wild Goose.

-jenn