The kind-hearted folks sit quietly they drink coffee
and listen to the sounds of cattle and believe deeply
in a specific lack of artifice haystacks scattered
across the fields that seem to resonate in the blueness
of the morning light a darkening color with charm
and wistfulness mapping the rising of the day
to the bracelet that a waitress fingers as she lingers
in her memories her bones as open as a stream
that drowns a struggling goat poisoning the day
a simple pathway that follows the contours of the land
that dates back to the depths of history when native
people followed buffalo across the plaintive width of
nation it’s evening in the city now time moves faster
there the sky is a canvas for the towers to shine against.
Poet and songwriter Paul Ilechko is the author of three chapbooks, most recently Pain Sections (Alien Buddha Press). His work has appeared in a variety of journals, including The Night Heron Barks, Rogue Agent, K’in, Lullwater Review, and Book of Matches. His first album, Meeting Points, was released in 2021.