SPRING FEVER

A little left where they spent
time in the car in front of the gate
last night, smoked Marlboros,

ate pork rinds, drank half-dozen
Budweisers out of town,
away from home, when

she leaned against the fence
to look up at the stars, padding
the sand in and the dust up

with bare, little feet – talking
as he dropped empty sunflower
seeds between his own.

They made love, I’d guess,
in the matted grass –
the coyotes howled for free.

                           for Red Shuttleworth

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