Brownwood to Clifton

dissociated in
a terrarium
as outside was
draped in illusion
the leafless trees
and sallow fields
beneath gray clouds
took me back home
until i stepped
out into the day
of warm weather
and constant winds
a delusion blanketed
in wintry pastiche
feeling like spring
in contradiction to
the candy canes
and tinsel on the
wrought iron gates

small towns on the
wrong side of prosperous
an empty retirement home
with all of the windows
shattered leaving a
gap toothed grin
the same as the overly
friendly girl behind
the counter of the
lone gas station
for fifty miles in
any delusional direction

lost count of all
the hawks i told just
how much i love you
as they hovered over
fields searching for a
nice plump rabbit for
a festive holiday feast
an hour and a half
of no signal layered
with the silences that
have become an integral
part of this depression
as i slip in and out
of the midwestern malaise
lost in the back country
of slow moving tractors
and hairpin curves

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