Purple Thistle

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.