It’s a permission she wanted
permission for her show and tell
something to prove her presence
something to help with her internship,
so we gave her some old form
resting on the desk of your scattered
business. Was it the red card
or blue or the one with your picture
holding a basket of baby asparagus
that we found we she came down
our dead-end from Phoenix?

(I was in an over-stuffed
white leather lounger
at the edge of a field of dreams
with dust motes in my eyes
when)

She arose
out of nowhere,
a beauty with pimply face
and hair pulled back in the sweat
of our high-alert heat wave,
selling Southwest books
in this rural neighborhood,
her blue backpack
by itself on our concrete porch,
a wheelbarrow tipped over in the yard
old Stella on her last leg
and she with her brown hand
lightly holding Stella’s face.
My god, I thought it was you,
those green eyes
made my heart thump
and some last drop of sap to rise

(I was here,
and there & then with you
in the falling barn
making love in the slanted light
when)

There you were
back from your labors at our neighbors
so quiet I had not heard,
I was glad for the help
you gave my emotions
and when I called her a brave child
your slicing glance made me say
brave young lady

I hated when she left,
stay I thought stay
this is the nicest place
with the nicest people
but she took our permission
and snapped it with her phone