Interlopers
Interlopers
one lone white daisy in
to Bad Creek is a shine cave
where a teenage girl bid the world
of her fathers still, far below the holy oak.
we follow bobolinks to some shade trees near
the bank to listen to a kingfisher with some interest.
you fancy the rivers reflections of far mountains.
a coyote lets us see her skirt tall grass where
turkeys also play.
we intuit we do not belong in this once Yuchi place.
we do not have the balls to bootleg, either,
but you hold my wrist still on your lap
where the current changes.
3 thoughts on "Interlopers"
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good poem
it took me a few reads
some places we should
…not go…
especially where
the current changes
But it can be that where the current changes is the poem itself.
the current (and you could not know this of course–) was in my relationship with him, but for meanings sake i let the play of words be between it being on ‘my wrist’ where you might find a pulse, for instance or the place we sat near the water, making it literal, but it is up to the reader. thanks for reading the poem.