Alparon & Clute

I watched him mow from the stands across the road;
one side to the next, trimming closer each time.
And hours later, it was beautiful again
—mulched and clean, even and soft.

I watched the queen ride by
and heard her name being called as she did.
Hands waved and music played.
Kisses were blown and cameras flashed.

The sun shone pretty brightly on a few while it fell.
And I think about it sometimes.

. . .

I tried to be okay while we walked.
I spoke when, and laughed at what,
I'm pretty sure I should've.
But all I could think about was not wasting the steps.

I've wondered if it hurt my case to have reappeared like I did
—if maybe I should've just let what was
be that,
and then disappeared into her memory.

. . .

Either way, somewhere else now,
strangers' hands sit on strangers' hips
while it shines on them too.

And as it does,
more curses like these are being born
and taking up quarters in the hauntable minds
they'll soon call home.

So now, I think about them too sometimes.