My Colorado
is seen from the driver's side
of a Jade green convertible:
latticed prairie
(starillions of yellow flowers and dusty shrubs)
greets a sky
woven of white and
the blue of your eyes.
is a sweetly scented wind,
a sunflower sagebrush bouquet
laced with thick perfumes:
cow shit, dead skunk,
and the warm, aching stench
of Daddy’s cologne which
seeps from Jade's porous left seat.
He sat here only just days ago.
is ahead, west, projected:
warrens of stone,
mazes of gullies and caverns,
networks of aspen and pine,
all of it
plaiting stardust into mountain—
the land lifting out of plains is
a song I know by heart.
Colorado, (you
always
remind me)
home.
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