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BUFFALO THOUGHTS

The hot tar life went on till it went away,
leading to autumn jobs laying riprap
or digging fence holes.

The memories were children of mine,
children of theirs, the crops I’d lost:
Luthor called them my Buffalo thoughts.

I’d left Fresno and the desert farming
on Noah’s motorcycle —
my mother was dying.

A big gray house in the sycamores —
late night thoughts and who they’re for.
Children of mine, children of theirs,
the crops I lost — my Buffalo thoughts ...

Excerpt from Runway Coyote Cash by Roy Ruth.
Copyright © 2010, royruth, LLC. All Rights Reserved.