I love contemplating the purple thistle,
sipping iced-tea and lemon, on the road
in Iowa, late July.
I love the dinosaur on the Sinclair gas sign.
And the little shop inside, with the little lady scooping homemade potato chips
into brown paper sacks.
I love stopping at the same restaurant every year
eating blackened catfish
watching freighters and the Mississippi go by.
I love the quaint town square in Bowling Green
bronze statues frozen by time and place.
Picnicking, peanut-butter sandwiches
Alongside the lonely back road in Alabama we’ll never find again.
