on the move he was
and the back roads
clogged full of mud from a
weekend of gut-bucket
rainfall, deep inches
pushing down corn stalks
near the golf course.
four-wheel drive might
help this chase, the moon
out, yes, but dirt road
attitudes bounced trucks
like gutter balls, and
redneck husbands best
leave their shotguns
to home after midnight.
lost sight of him
near the bridge, but
motel's neon sign urged
travelers to come
on down, and sure nuff,
there was his SUV parked
outside Room 101, a first
floor oasis looking out
toward prairie grass
and a Huddle House.
Better dial her cell phone,
tell her he's arrived, tell
her I've got her covered.
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