Erosion Control
I rise from dinner leaving
chicken, potatoes, and yogurt
the westward door beckons
ochre stains the horizon
beyond the long-leaf pines
and the rolling purpled-hills
as the sun crashes down
leaving its light-shadows
to linger in the air
and on the ground
reflecting on the angular gravel
lying within the road’s banks
ochre overflows the banks
flooding the straw strewn
on the rust-filled earth
‘erosion control’
here in the failing light
with road dust in my mouth
Pamela Olson, 5/29/08
This poem was written for
13 comments
