Intermission

Northern Sights

The arctic skies are drinking
tears tonight,
my old Kentucky home,
and we are hammered
by the stillness,
by the nails of meadow
grass and oak saloons;
I love that taste
of whiskey-sacred
eelgrass, trinity
and close to Pennacook
New Hampshire where
I dreamt the turnpike
supernatural island,
unbelievable
fluorescent exit,
ghost deposit saving soul,
and alone.

~Son Rivers 2005