Purity | Linda Gregg

[alwaysashipper.livejournal.com]

I’m walking on farm road 2810 again,
alone as always. Unless you want to count
the Border Patrol. Or the police cars
that go by with their strange maneuvers
in front of me and pull off into
the mowed grass on the side. Then turn
and come back. Stalling and facing me.
Waiting until a car approaches
from far away. It passes and the police
follow it toward town. Leaving me
with animals, insects and birds.
And the silence. I walk toward the sun
which is always going down.