|
Stacie Barry
Tail Lights
We are sailing
smooth pavement--
one handed, ten o’clock:
eyes all
over the strangeness
we have to pay to see.
Red snake; white markings
our brief stops
filled with words
from worlds we’ve never seen.
The same music
seems heavy here--
a hitchhiker
fighting for the window;
cool air
coming through the vents
smells like ashes,
bread and dark brown beer
and in the distance
there is something
like a storm coming,
thick wind flipping
the dashboard map,
the red snake coiling; uncoiling
squirming for cover
and when it hits
the road is empty,
our doors are open
the speaker crackling
and we are dancing
mouths open
Big Sky
There were nights
beneath the moon
when the darkness
lifted her skirt
and danced around the fire
like everyone else
turning to escape
the intensity of either extreme
and I could see
the needles in the canopy
and the berries in the underbrush
shimmering like shiva
as the dew condensed
around us
blanketing the drums
their skins
warmed and receptive
and the stars
stretched in the black
pool of your eyes
I was sitting on a stump
behind the guitars
when a hand pulled me
into a circle
snaking along the game trail
to the plateau overlooking
our little mountain town
the porch lights
rolling like moss
and I wished on each of them
the same wish
before turning back
and the sod was thick
as bees beneath my feet
the smoke had spread
out into the blue light
and I felt so far away
I doubted ever returning
to the flat world
of my beginning
so I began to wander
out into the calm
thinking always of
the teeth and the claws
and the madmen in their cabins
thinking winter thoughts
but pressing on
until I reached a spot
where the water
came out of the ground
and I sat beside it
listening to the mountain
waiting for the yellows and reds
©2002 by Stacie Barry
Stacie Barry currently lives in Missoula, Montana. More of her work can
be
found in 2 River View, Circle Magazine, Gumball Poetry, Grey Matter
Tapestry and RealPoetik.
|
