Passing Detmer Meadows

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             —for Bud and Irene

Deep ruts. She jolts against his ribs,
then back against the door.
He's driving the rumble-seat Chrysler.
Listen: they're singing

Ain't got a barrel of money
maybe we're ragged and funny
but we'll travel along, singing a song
side by side

He'll have to sell the car
when lumber-sticker dye infects his eyes
and he can't work, can't see, can't think
what to do
but now it's June, he's married
the class valedictorian, they're both children
of this Depression, they can live on love

Don't know what's coming tomorrow
maybe it's trouble and sorrow
but we'll travel our road, sharing our load
side by side

They are passing Detmer Meadows
on their way back in to Johnson's Mill,
smell of raw cut pine, boot grease,
early morning woodsmoke
in the one room shack
where she has hung her curtains.

Through all kinds of weather
what if the sky should fall?

A wake of road dust, rising into light.