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Saturday, October 2, 2010

Sunday Drive

Cloudless afternoon –

the Mennonite girls

drive carriages down


gravel byways,

laughing under

black bonnets.


All but one

lean and wave

as we blow past.


On an iron pole

in a man-made pond,

a belted kingfisher


cocks his big-

headed profile

against the sun.


The lime headstones

in Cosper’s graveyard

illegible, our fingers


pick up granules

like salt from

their smooth faces.


Back on the course,

before a third put,

pausing for a jet’s


deafening passage

to fade, I hear

the wind vectors’


whipcrack, see

the ball breaking

toward the hole.

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