changing the curve in Grayson, KY
have not walked in on fiddleheads of fern
nor crept in groundcedars as though
taking in castle-top vistas in order
to avoid thorn-prickers, this time ’round,
but when you drove me in the holler
that seemed awful long for a holler to us-
i espied at 20 feet and 35 MPH
plain faces of bloodroot,
lain out on bluffs.
on the way back you can get out and snap
pictures, you told me, while three American
bluebirds practiced perfect posture out
your side of the Crown Vic.
out mine there was a rock rainclouds
draped their fuchsia phlox on,
to develop, and sun-dry.
where the bloodroot was, i immedately
spied trout lily, then slender toothwart,
star chickweed, eastern spring beauties,
the invasive periwinkle, native violets,
harborers of spring and trilium-
all of them being things i had only
ever seen or known to grow
in forests.
i was out of shape, field-work wise.
so much i had yet to conger.
the way back you suggested one only
gets road flowers on south-facing sides.
i sat fingering the buckle. i was confused,
if aware of any action going on outside.
i only ever knew where west was based
on sun, and since we were right winding-
and i mean right-
i didnt throw myself fully in
to comprehending the south,
but i did blow from out my cigarette
some flame which was no longer as big
or strong as the one in you, the one which
spilled out onto the good car upholstery
like 2 o clock sunlight.
the smoke settled me like gravel.
you may be base in ways but declined to
stop, let me out to piss, fucks sake, til we
werent near nothing, which seemed noble.
