Station Wagons

*





I try to remember one specifically, whether it was yellow or blue or brown,

the one was that took us to New York and then was never seen again?

Which one took us to Disney World, stopping every three hours for oil?

Which one had paneling to match our living room?

They’re all the same now. They blend and I can’t distinguish.

It doesn’t matter which had burn holes in the carpet

behind the backseat, where we would sleep,

or which rear window shattered and woke me in glass,

because no recollection could make one good car of the parts.

 
-Brent Allard

Wyoming

*

A child would grow up different

here, in the dust and sagebrush,

under a sky that remembers .

the void before the world



Here, he would learn to fill the space,

construct his own linked scarecrows

and send water through their metal arms

so the grass seeds could take root .



He would learn to become the emptiness

to live in the spaces where nothing thrives.

He would take in dust like water,

his eyes fixed on something shining, far away.



                         
                                  -Brent Allard