Red River Girl

236/365

Bypass
iii.

The neighbor’s
flower pots
stayed out all night.

Again.

Look at them.

Throwing up
their colors.

Even the shy
and quiet ones
have overdosed

on summer.

235/365

Bypass
ii.

today
the old men smile,
dog-day sun
reminding them
of everything
that used to be
ahead.

old women hum
and think of nights
they might have danced
instead of
slept—
impossible

to know the air
we breathe
or

are we
breath?

234/365

Bypass
i.

is a train
still a train
if a soul
can’t wait?

232/365

Dreams
i.

no reticence
for mortal fall, they tumble
out of trees, infuse the air,
bid softly— come
my sweet.

forget.



translation: run, run, run
straight into

every
broken
heart.

222/365

August
iii.

whispering Aspen.
front porch creak.
summer sounds I keep—
and keep.

221/365

August
ii.

everything there is
to wish.
end-of-summer kiss.

220/365

August
i.

fields follow the sun.
wind begs to play
tag without running.

213/365

Now
i.

when you were
a doll, I
carried you.

when you were
a leaf I watched you green.
and gold.
and fall.

when you were
my lips, I
kissed you.

now you are
quiet
after storm.

212/365

Flatland
ii.

Swarming into the future
like dragonflies—
Thoughts can be pretty or
ugly as hell.



A silver battalion
charging the windows,
they try to get in
where the old ladies
separate string and the
old men sand wood blocks.



Mosquito hawks.
says one old woman.
We used them for bait
when I still had my leg.

211/365

Flatland
i.

You are old,
farm truck. Traffic has
no time for you. Hay
bales, farmhands,
cattle
gone.

I want to chase the suns
you’ve seen. Explore
your wooden panels—

Everything
that touched you.

I want to know
why sitting at
this stoplight
makes me
cry.

179/365

Run
ii.

There’s something about
being barefoot.

A feeling you just
can’t beat.

I think it’s the feeling
you get when you’re feeling
the absence of
shoes
on your feet.

178/365

Run
i.

Midnight run, full
moon, jack
rabbits bounce-freeze-bounce
across
the path. One stops,
nose twitching as
I pass then
zig-zag-scurries off
to warn
the warren:

…big rabbit,
up ahead, bad
hop.

161/365

Love
v.

All of this.

Because
she is not
in Love.