North Carolina

Thursday, May 10, 2018

Wake Forest; okay.
Nap for rest in the afternoon.
Sleep for awhile; and wake.
It’s the drowsy cycle marked
by patterns of light,
and, quite honestly, we
prefer dusk. We love the quiet
zip of chainsaws in far forests
and rush of traffic on the interstate;
the dust of our convenience store
printed on its heavy drapes
a young woman hung there
more than 40 years ago.
North Carolina is long—long
shadow, longer days
of distant sound, the cardinal’s
“Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet!”
among some cedar’s boughs.

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