all the lovers are miles away

all the lovers are miles away

and a fence post in the pasture

is too aged to keep her

barbed wire well hung

all the lovers are miles away

and the gate handles are too

entangled to release them from

their holding loops

all the lovers are miles away

and the horse and her two

companion minis graze upon

browning autumn grasses 

all the lovers are miles away

and the lame dog limps

about the yard and lies in the sun

and gnaws a phantom sore

all the lovers are miles away

and a zephyr caresses the

pasture grass as one would trace 

a hand across one's hot scalp

she had surgery 

recently on her foot

to right a 

prevailing wrong

the doctor had

been vague about

why it hurt so

much for her to walk

 neglected soreness

that began as a middling,

almost trifling, foolish

annoyance had calcified,

he told her,

into an unforgiving  growth,

a riotous spur

the size of fate

she said what hurt

the most was the

bandage that kept the

dressing around the incision

how it tightly

taunted her in her

immobile state, no longer 

able to regulate her day

i watch as she

unspools the swathe

from her treated foot

blackened and blued as it is

the wound a puckered

ridge two inches long;

a pleated range of pink

flesh tied with black x's

have you heard from ---

no

have you spoken with ---

no. they're all gone

we talk as she

lets the gauze fall

to the floor and wiggles 

color into her toes

all the lovers are miles away

but the bandage is still

warm and i roll it into

a clumsy ball

and help her undress

and ease her into the tub

and watch her hips

and her thighs

and the way the water

rises up around her

arms and her breasts

and consumes her navel

and she dangles her lame

foot over the edge

and i palm her hot bandage

and watch her 

all the lovers are miles away

and my serene girl,

blood on her foot, is right here

and says bend down and kiss me