With lime green shutters

She drives past rusted trucks

Hal’s Dinner Joe’s Automotive Corner

One room drugstores

Past cows barns old colonials

New reproductions cathedral ceilings

Green  and yellow lawns

Antique stores that sell antiques

Skies with patches of white flakes

Birch trees and swamps with weeds

She drives past horses and goats

And motels that say no vacancy.

Her drive is smooth

Like snow on a low hill

Or the moon’s curves in winter.

Anne drive past a gray farmhouse

A barking dog a duck pond

A row boat

The road to the spring slips away

From roaring highways

From three deckers and glass high rises

The spring road  slips into birches and firs 

Leaves reflecting the sun

Water from mountains slide

And  the road turns to dirt

Tree roots ferns

And pine needles asleep at feet

Through  a pipe at the spring

An  earth periscope spies

Finds algae dampness

And people who hold empty containers

Talking about the taste of coffee

With tape water

Water flows jewel sunlight

At  Anne’s  feet toes wet and mossy

Cold in sandals

Glass bottles filled in half an hour

Rocking  in the trunk

Like familiar  bodies in hammocks

Anne drives past a row boat

Duck pond a sleeping dog

A gray farmhouse

The moon’s curves

She drives by home reproductions

Past black and white cows one room

drugstores past old colonials barns

Car dealers

Diners

Rusted tractors

People in pink ranch houses sipping

Anne drives back past  horses and goats

Empty cars in motel parking lots

Past swamps  slices of dim gray blue sky

An antique barrel on a grass patched lawn

Ann drives past late day coolness

Past the birds in the sky forming

Words that began with v

Anne drives past sunlight drifting

Orange pumpkins at  farm stands

Corn cobs on home doors

Past the red light into the city

Where water pipes hide

And water runs underneath

Not over her feet