Mississippi Poem



Saw Mississippi lines
On highways
Saw a car
or truck
Deserted off the road
Off,
over a ditch,
And in the grass that rises to my waist

And the trees turn brown
In August
And the leaves dry
In the heat
They don’t know the sun is killing them
They don’t know

Is killing them

Is killing them
But one day
When the cold comes
The days, longer
The air, wet
with
Humidity

And I
Am standing where I stood
Five years ago

Just watch the Mississippi lines
They move,
they disappear,

Pointing to horizons like arrows

But I’m still here,
And I still hear
And I still hear