So little space
to misplace anything
or anyone
and still conserve the conversation
Such dialog
is a gift misplaced
Yet there’s a kind of vanity
in misplaced gifts
or a gravitational pull
a displacement of sorts
Vanity or gravity
this is not
what I was getting at
I wanted to share
mountains with you
plains
the great land
in between
postcards, Kodachrome
I was the traveler
You were indifferent
a shipping clerk
expediting freight
all the dusty invoices
bills of lading
the great land
in between
I was in Oregon
You Montana.
a resident of Garland, Texas, a Tree City, just south of Duck Creek, is a retired parish pastor put out to pasture himself. His work has appeared in Grey Sparrow Journal, Cobalt Review, and Burningword Literary Journal, among other publications, and more recently in Right Hand Pointing, Tipton Poetry Journal, Wilderness House Literary Review, and Danse Macabre.