36) Poem

A mule kicked out in the tress. An early
snow was falling,
the girl walked across the field
with a hairless doll - she dragged
it by the green corduroy of its sleeve
and with her hands
buried it beside the firepond.

The doll was large enough to make a mound
which she patted down a dozen time.
Then she walked back alone.
The weak winter sun
sat on the horizon like a lacquered mustard seed.

She never noticed me
beside the road drinking tea from a thermos.
The noisy engine cooling.
Did you ever want to give someone

all your money? We drove past midnight, ate,
and drove some more - unable to sleep in Missouri.

---Norman Dubie