Kay Goldstein

Hickory

I wanted to just stand there
in the noonday parking lot
the sun frying dashboards all around
for hours maybe
after that long drive,
back to the place I started.

I wanted to just stand there
until the burning hickory
that filled the air
filled me too,
my city clothes,
and city hair
all soaking up that smell of home
and carrying me back
like the sack of barbecue I'd come for:
with curling tendrils of smoke
all the way through.