In the rusted brown Chevy truck,
You explore the back roads of my childhood
With me, the creeks chilling my youth,
The ditch where I fell over on my bike
After a day in the sun. I lay there
In the poison ivy shade of scrub oaks
Until my head stopped spinning,
And then I got back on the banana seat
And pedaled home. The roads, dangerous
Though wider now, wind farther away
From the creek, like the two of us
Distanced from the children we were
When we didn’t know each other—
Girl and boy of the plains, Oklahoma
And Kansas, level lands where clear water
Is a surprise that never stops being one.
If it were summer, we could stop
And jump off Cooper’s Bridge.
Then I could feel you in my life
Even stronger than you are in it now.