Hopscotch Highway
       

I should have known better than to wear
the ball gown, the one with a tight waist.
I sweat orange circles into that red
taffeta; my chignon combusted
in the blue wind. I stuck out my thumb
and the sky sneered. Overhead, the crows
were sympathetic, but we all knew
no one luminous was going to pass
this way, not before the gold storm rose.

That moon, she couldn't do a damn thing
for me. I had a rocket in my
belly; I wanted to savor her
from afar. How will I know my heart's
broken? If we come here with just so
many breaths, maybe we come with just
so many tears. Maybe I've dried up,
a lake that's disappeared, residue
of fish bones glinting under the sand.

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Copyright © 2018 Terry Wolverton All rights reserved
from Ruin Porn
FinishingLine Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission