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country_roads_...dallasbugman.mid

they told her if she was
going to live in Kansas
and had a dog, she'd
have to register it under
the name of Toto,
"you know where you
can go to!" she sped
off to Colorado,

when the country barn
saw her coming, the
barnwood aged a little
more just for her outlaw
liking, the old-day bricks
in the silo tightened and
smiled, showing not a flaw
when she walked past,

she bought a set of Amish
schoolbooks and a wire-mesh
corn popper, fed fried green
tomatoes to the grasshopper,

met a pretty woman mid-way
on a covered bridge who was
leading a team of horses,
compared details about their
divorces, she climbed on the
buggy, they went on down the
country roads, the congregation
at the wooden bridge, baptizing
in white robes wading out into
the waist-deep water,

her and buggy woman shared
a fried egg sandwich wrapped
in wax paper from a brown paper
bag and a bottle of whiskey not so
discreetly tucked under the buggy
seat minus the upholstery tag,
broke the seal-with-a-kiss,
sharing an afternoon of passion,
spellbound by the clear-washed
sky and the feel of a fuzzy-worn
cattail,

now, the spaded soil of their
fall-tilled country garden lies
with an empty canvass ripe with
spring possibility, both eager to
play the role of paintbrush,

shaving the kindling into curled
strips for a quick-start fire, the
metaphor spiked with the whiskey
in the Mason jar, looking out of the
oak bedroom door to the country roads...


Copyright 2006 Sage Sweetwater, firebrand lesbian novelist