Sunday, August 24, 2008

It wasn't you

I drove her up from Dallas
to north east Oklahoma
so she could appear in court
for a restraining order on her
recently ex husband.

He dealt drugs
and ran with white supremacists.
So did she,
and her brothers were all shaven,
jack booted,
and leading pit bulls to the Dairy Queen
on chromed chains.

I read ancient texts found in deserts
smoked cigars
and influenced other people on occasion.

This was not such an occasion.
I drove her to Veneta OK
known only for having a large mental hospital
and from what I could see,
little else.

She lived in a rented house
unfinished and without air conditioning
summer was hot,
but the breeze was nice
and the nights were dark.

She was miles out of town on dirt roads,
and town wasn't much,
but she was on a running stream
and her mom kept a nice garden.

I didn't fit.
I felt like I was camping.
So out of my element that I couldn't relate.

I drove her back once
she'd got her restraining order.
She lived with me and my friends
for awhile longer
until she was sure I wasn't interested,
then she went back home.

When we first met I had seen more life than her
I was experienced and older,
but last we met the tables were turned
and I was innocent from so many years in books
and thought,
and she was not.

I wonder how she is doing.
I wonder how her son is doing.
I'd like to introduce her to my daughter and wife.
But these are silly thoughts
maybe I'm still an innocent,
too long in books
and thoughts,
but I remember her
and I wish she knew that it wasn't her.
It took me another decade and one half
to marry. It wasn't her.

1 comment:

maxweed said...

deep tissue . . .
a visceral, magnetic pull toward the subject.
years & years & you present an honesty that others in the same situation might dismiss.

thanks for the trip to veneta.