your eyes closed
leaning against the wooden
bridge rail
over the fast running
creek
your face tinted blue
in the night
your face beautiful and mirroring
my own ecstasy of
the night

Sunday like a country
song
the painting of the
woman praying
folgers coffee that
smelled like algae
from the cup
zucchini relish brought
up from the cellar
a beaten down porch for
the bluegrass band
crows chasing out
eagles by the
hundreds
an uncle who shot
every bird he
saw, boiled them
until the meat came
off the bones
put them in spaghetti
sauce
smoking inside to
bobcat stories
bobcat coming up
to the sliding glass
door, putting its nose
against dog nose on
the other side
bobcat dying in the
snow: can’t
hunt when you
fall through the snow