Into these fallow fields

An introverted poem

Poem 4 of 30 Days of Poetry

I have been so seduced by bed of late.
I lay down flat and melt into it,
disappearing into the threads,
into the folds, into palpable,
cast-off dreams.

I am trying to remember when 
I took the exit ramp, when
I left the whining interstate
and rolled up quiet onto 
these unfurnished backroads. 

I let this vehicle carry me out
into these fallow fields,
routes sliced through
hip hugging curves, repeating 
railcars holding me in place.

I forget to use my mirrors.
Now and then a mangy 
pickup tries to eat my tail. 
It’s always a surprise to be 
hounded out here: not alone.

I am pumping myself with 
bird song, shadow shapes,
moldering cut grass, and
twilight, waiting to inhale
another day’s end.

I have been so seduced of late 
by resting, by the far corners of 
the parking lot, of broken 
concrete, gaps in time,
these fluids, leaking out.  

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“The woman’s body is the terrain on which patriarchy is erected.”

- Adrienne Rich.

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Today is Day 4 of Autumn 2024, 30 Days of Poetry. Today’s word “fallow'“ comes from my good friend, Lane, who I’ve known since grad school.

Comments are warmly welcomed. Thanks for stopping by.