drive, he said -
take me to the open road
my father knew, and i will build a home
upon my back.
i shall call it dare
and make its bricks from red georgia clay
and fashion windows and doors
from white birch.
i will paint the ceilings haint
like the cloth my mother wrapped me in
and learn to wash what is left behind
after the cooling rains.
i shall make boats from leaves
to soothe the heat -
the secret life of water
in my name,
and i will wander through
this slow bounty
like a valley of souls.
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