Somewhere In The Middle Of Nowhere In Louisiana I Thought Of You
Sugar cane, white bungalow gone grey
a shack. I turn
the page in the story I read your father
and there you are
perched like a picture in someone else’s book.
Words scrawl sideways across the pale in disarray
as if the poet meant it that way
I’m sure he did
Southern humidity hangs
weighted with summer. I imagine
you and your girl
sliding those silver Rockies down to the bay
pink with sunset
planning your tomorrows
beside that marble mansion. Candy clouds
close the chapter
childhood sinks, you rise
break the surface with your breath
nimble feet pump, kick. Laughing and proud
swimming like the weeki-wachee mermaids.
Softer than a siren she sings
calls your name in a way
only you can hear from sea-green eyes
only you can read.
I read it too
somewhere in the middle of nowhere
passing Abbeville, stopping for bacon at a quick store
photographing the swamp, the cypress knees, the moss
and just like that I know for sure you are gone.
The book of literary wonders, long forgotten, sits slack in my lap
I watch your father drive
through fields of sugar cane
sweetness on every side. I finger memories
of him at your age
how he turned when I called his name
swam to me
through pink waters beneath the moon.