Sweet Betsy from Pike

co-written with rachel kellum

Never did I intend
To pull away
It is just
what my people do
Inconstant, unsettled
Unpredictably
I
move toward what is easiest
fool’s gold
Someone else’s dream
A tintype of mountain stream
It isn’t easy
this worry of losing
and getting lost
I should be used to it all
by now
Piker that I am
Fists in my pockets
fists around my heart
Crumbling, crumbling
past dust to powder
I sift, I scatter
I offer you the wind

3 comments

  1. authors’ note: a Piker is a vagrant who flees from difficult situations. Derived from poor migrants across the Oregon Trail from Pike, Missouri.
    But we got Pike’s Peak out of that…..

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