though our ride be late
so late to miss the ache of dusk
the warm reach of valley sun
as we young sit shall see
light the beautiful dead weeds
which sway as though alive
we young were here left
the drive far longer than expected
and the barn then cast shade
the valley breeze summerwarm
will turn cold before our ride arrives
will it be one of our fathers
in a rusty chariot
clods of sunwarm dirt crunched under our feet
we dared some yards near the orchard
to pass the time, dusk paints
in washes of memory-colored light the scenery
we young shall wait awhile
our ride home
it will be headlamps in the night
though it was young evening when
we were marooned here
in the stickered weeds
near the splintered barn
let us go watch the sun go
because with her everything goes
and down the valley its final lit moments
there go two colts storming through the vast orchard
both to and away from
oh, you didn't see the tear i stifled
when the sun and the colts
shared by no small chance
their disappearance
they with my tear were gone forever
when we turned to see
the gravel lot had not changed behind us
will it be our father
manning the wheel
