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Saturday Night

We are lost in this land
down from Farm to Market Road
golden sinking slowness behind us
approaching Saturday night
at the cafe.
Catfish, ice tea
decor stuck in the seventies
you are out with the ketchup girl tonight.
Waitress has a wide gap grin
cramped feet and crumpled dreams
caring for these country people.
Red state like the salsa,
but I prefer guacamole
they’ll begrudge you a living
but help you fix a flat
pick you up for church
and bring you fried chicken.
But now, there’s the dark highway home
wild hogs roam the night
narrow road veers
through the abundance of this country.
Your wild heart beating
love in skipped measure
I touch your shoulder
understand the softness
of the side of your face
and appreciate all that
those brown eyes have seen.
Image courtesy of Pixabay
windmill-584438_1280

Published incountrycreative fictionpoetryPoetry

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  1. I like it. Emotive and imaginative. Reminds me of my own upbringing in the Peace River country – that would be waaaaay up north from you. It wasn’t that much different there, the folks, that is.

    • Thank you, I do like to portray regional areas, but hopefully also share some insight. I couldn’t quite capture what I wanted to on this one, but I went with it. Country folks probably have a lot in common wherever they are from. Thanks again for reading, hope you had a great weekend!

  2. i enjoy the people you describe and the way you approach them — with acceptance and even love. This line is my favorite:” you are out with the ketchup girl tonight.” no pretentiousness here!

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