South Dakota + Bemis

where the grass was tall
dead and brown tipped from the sun
trying in the damnedest
to whip your calves

rail lines stretch out
horizon to horizon
uncovered as if an artifact
proof of a going from here to there

everyone is a ghost
rising from the hard cold novemeber ground
to hear the horses whining wild
as the moon rises

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Bemis

with our white hairs sprouting up
you feel weighted in my arms
not burdened heavy but full
oh gentle prince
the fervor of your bark carries you
jumping with all four legs as you speak
saying to the neighborhood I am here
here I am
the wispy rhythm of your snores
come opposite the beside clock’s tick tick
and our white hairs age us together
through the night, every night.