artwork: ralph murre
Wires
by
Gary C. Busha
You see her
wearing jeans
in fields of
green clover,
and she sings
from her network
of wires.
When she sees you
in the marsh,
wading with feet
like a duck,
your hair is thick
with sand burrs,
your wire glasses
sag on your nose.
You are together
as tall grass flutters
and wets your knees–
your hand in hers fits
like a gate latch.
Along the path
thistle twist and weave
in the fence wire.
~ first published in KUDZU
