Letter From Home

Letter From Home

There was a storm
Last night
Lightning and wind
Darkness rumbling through the air
Today, as I drove
Highway 9,
Ola to Morrilton,
I was seduced
Again
By blue sky
Like ocean plains
And clouds born of some artist’s brush
Casting shadows
On the hills
Painting the trees
Light green here
Dark green there
Rolling the hills
Back from the rice fields
Flooded with mirrors
A chicken house
Arthritic With disrepair
Its tin roof
Bleeding rust
A grain colored horse tail
Threshing flies
If I could see them,
They would glint
June Bug Green
Or Electric Blue
My eyes
And my heart
Were intoxicated
By the beauty
Of the everyday
Decay
And I thought of you
I am here
My feet on the ground
I am home
You should come home