“American Beauty”

Side 2; Track 1

__________________________________________

We cross paths on this narrow country road, early afternoon, maybe a half mile before the dead end, she in the blue Outback, me in the red Tacoma, nothing moving between

the trees but our two cars, no wind, no pebbles

skidding onto the dark rippling surface

of the shale pond we just passed from opposite

directions, undulations of breath mixing

in the breathless autumn air, still fluttering later

in the evening as we sink back into the couch

at arm’s length, fingers entwined, a hush wafting

across this once noisy living room, cross-currents

of voices, soft thump of a vaporous base guitar

in the still still air, hours after I watched the blue

Outback in the side view mirror, turning at the mail-

box, disappearing into orange woods, down the long

shale drive, a silenced crunch of gravel rolling up

to the yellow house, my lips tingling from a kiss, Vilas

Avenue, Madison, Wisconsin, November 1967, when

I brake at the STOP sign, Springtown Road, clicker

on, breath tremulous as a silver van whooshes by.