I attended The 2016 Gathering of Poets hosted by Jacar Press in Winston-Salem, NC. A souvenir anthology was published which included one of my poems. I include it here for you to dissect. :)
Sometimes I even get to ride with you
on Sunday drives in your truck, letting go
of control as we wander around, both longing so
for something more in life to do.
I lean over to embrace you, get a clearer
view of the dust clouds we’ve cultivated
(gardens could grow in dirt we’ve agitated),
but I turn away from the rear-view mirror:
a storm coming up in the distance I curse.
Rain makes flowers (you never bring me) bloom,
but your bouquets are a gritty perfume.
Mud murders my joy; truck becomes hearse.
Love-provoked arousal of earth is ephemeral,
I know, a periodical delivered like a morning kiss,
a too infrequent resurrection of my bliss.
For you coming home to me is dust and gravel.
Stop your truck and the dust continues its flight
envelops me like your arms in bed at night,
stings and burns like your words when we fight,
chokes me like your absence when you don’t call or write.
Beside me now I urge your engine to restart
longing again to kick more dust in the face
of the storm and over these back roads trace
a momentary macadamized map of my heart.