Warm Winter, Arkansas
“Torn” at the root of them, like your life
last year. We play the radio, we gather
in the tub, a six-pack of Coke under the sink.
Always, one of us would be
truly nervous. No one born here
is afraid. We all have stories,
children fished out of shattered
remnants of houses, clothes
spotless, white gold
hair unmussed, shining like a lost
coin in the dirt.
The best stories happen to other people.
The local news reported a man crushed
in his own house, a truck through the roof,
risen by the simple air, that we take
in our lungs, without thinking or waking.
The steel, tire, heft. What would never lift
in any other weather.
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