by Stephen Jarrell Williams
The night smells of mint and dust
Left by a dry wind from the desert
She walks the side yard
Away from the window light
Barefoot on the wilted lawn
Hesitating as she opens the gate
Out front the street waits
Quiet as a snake
She takes the bait
Cloudless sky sprinkled with stars
A boy opens his car door
His face saintly in the dark
She has done this before
A slim, wild-eyed girl, rebellious
As her father sleeps
With the TV on
His wife, her mother long since gone
Paths of the earth repeated mysteries
Whispering cycles with forked tongues
While he worked two jobs for twenty years.
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The first section of this poem has such vivid images that it's a narrative dented into my mind. And especially like the first two lines with their assonance and alliterative sound.
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