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In The Shade
Floating on scent of a cut throat blue spruce.
A pillow of dust moves over my eyes.
My memory - it staggers, and then almost falls.
I was standing - remember? - next to a road,
hoping my thumb might stop the next car.
Brake lights go on,
pull over,
then stop.
The driver comes running.
It's a woman in blue.
Wow…
Now on my back
and looking down road,
and at the cows, and
the chickens.
It's farm country, you know.
poem
by
Rick Stokes
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