Aubade Ending with a College Acceptance Letter
That time at the Ingomar rodeo,
back of the horse trailers,
all that dirty July light, gleam & shit-spatter,
the dust like cuffs on our dark jeans
where we were shuffling about, our hands
full of one another’s shirtfronts
& belts. Hurry, you said, my boyfriend
is up for bulldogging. I don’t
remember which angry one he was. I remember
thinking you’d come to your senses,
once I left. This is trying to be but can’t be
that story. This is just a few bright rodeos & the dark
of my truck after a basketball game, you
next to me on the bench seat.
Elegy from the Fence Where Our Fields Met
The last, canted light of late summer spills
over the ridge, threshes
the dry grass into sheaves
of stalk & shadow, the going-away
sky gone so color-wheel
wild you can snap in either hand
the thin bones
of hope. I tell myself I am not
alone. There are others
who dream of you this often.
