By Stan Galloway
Beans and pork fat
over sage and cottonwood
fill an evening’s reverie
punctuated by a coyote’s call
and flatulence that prairie winds reform
eddy and
disperse.
Sing the ballad of the assless chaps
voice and percussion
sweet stink of self
sorrow and hope.
You can’t let yesterday’s fart
taint today
nor can today’s
cloud yesterday’s sun.
Each day has a wide sky of its own.
Stan Galloway writes from the hills of West Virginia. He is the founder of Pier-Glass Poetry as well as the author or editor of 9 anthologies/books/chapbooks of poetry, including ‘Just Married’ (Unbound Content, 2013).
