Dewey Can't Bear to Look

lids squeezed tight

barely peeking

snowy pink aura on everything

salvage of the summer

heaped

around them

oh we drove em nine miles

then we stacked em

up in piles

old Paint’s a good pony

and he paces
when he can

their feet propped

on a chair

as usual

arcs of nails

so white so hard

such a soft rosy glow

the tambourine
they should
have given to Annie

good morning young lady

my pony 

won’t stand

or to
the little girl Chloe

Annie was watching

tambourine still in their car trunk

they were going to say guitar trunk

buried inside their cowboy hat

the metal button-

nosed pig right there 

beyond the porch rail

beautiful

compost

hole

the words they didn’t say

you know

I fall easy