dusk
three young turkeys
bobbing down the road

          last days 
          of summer 
          like loose change 

abandoned church 
(there is no path)
potato fields breathe 

          the hum
          of cars approaching 
          climbs our warm wet skin 

ballgame 
on the radio 
the moon a pink dime rises 

          cantaloupe on tongue 
          my heart a pop-up 
          babe you got it 



















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