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Beneath a grove of Staghorn Sumac
under the stars..........
around the corner from the Moon,
She writes notes to tack upon the Oak trees
with packets of flower seeds
for the Holocaust.

She was crying when I said,"Hello."
So we rode down to Chatanooga,
where the roads are pink asphalt
and the river is pale green.....
to camp under a Billboard painted
with a giant red Parrot declaring,
"The Gateway to the South."

White phantoms of night blooming
Jasmine was blooming there, in
great showers of succulent petals,
in dewey flesh of bloom,
waves upon waves of binding arms
gripped in nature's green embrace,
wound about with garlands and
irresistible buds.....their tantalizing
odor profusely spread across the
humid bower of a star studded black
velvet night.

The call of the road caused you to
race the Moon in your abandonment of
me, and when I awakened .......
there was only the fragrance of your empty
space that I gathered up into my arms,
to live forever in my memories.......