3.13.15

you wear that sunlight well
                     for Dawn

the sun set blues. formed a crust like pie.
bake until golden mantles favor
the folds in a fine ladys dress.
Gold Medal poured too quick
on the western hills, carelss.
you introduced me to certain kinds
of magic: birds, bones & such. day of the grackle
i cannot describe them but
when someone makes u happy one
hundred times a day it doesnt really matter
what they do. flap ebullient. for seven seconds or
so they flap a 22 clears the bottle from a winecrate.
gunsmoke smells like a polecat came thru.
seamstress precision.
the arms false words retract, swift and back in
tightly now then let go.
it was just another seven seconds. first
fine days of weather weve had. only your voice could
fill that canyon. its meandering. cuts vertical. you know
youve had a good time when you piss outdoors two
days in a row. missing my shoes spotted an acre
of new moss enclosed by vinous
curtains of late sun
just keep walking,
youll find it.  
he says squirrels store the souls of small children
its in the bible. was the first he heard about cows
sitting before the rain. its all been
such news to me.  that coral sun broke behind our backs
hitting hilltops far roads with sprays of duck fat gold.
you dont mess with another womans dishes.
you can do her hair.
is anything better than a fried chicken thigh?
natural highlights will come thru the dye.
i swear tromping my way through the mushroom
field on my way to see Dawns bog
i came cross a bone
led to a whole
skeleton field.
lined up like sentry round where the
forest starts opening.
took what i could take of the light
right then, diagonal mainly on trunks
and leaves and the young ferns
were spouting-off dilettantes.
the grackles i mean drifted up ahead
glad to be home after such a long fly.
i smirk leaves. and each of them on every
tree around en masse and assuden are
their own hand cupping. you drew me
in. drops hit quietly. somewhere a screen door
strikes a bare calve with the tenderness of cows
bear calves well. sun enthralls us all. voids
any our misprision, and you, down
here do too, with them bare calves---
you are a fence of pales, of stakes.
you really know how to wear sunlight.