as it panoramas past

january group to laird’s chair, come in laird i say 
into the walkie talkie 
in the river house
to the barn
i didn’t get to say goodbye to the pooches
i say
as we are at the top of the driveway, about to head out
it’s better that way tyler says in the wind-tossed sun-spilled almost-afternoon light
a scoop of erika’s homemade lotion
from its little mason jar
and into my palm
where it gets melty as we roll away
from the hotsprings in her isuzu

the styrafoam container in the 
northern new mexican wind that slips
out of erika’s grip
and how she chases it for a good 100 yards
as it tumbles along the ground
just out of reach
and how i stand
helpless after she’s already taken off
and laughing because i can’t help it
though not at her
but just at the ridiculousness
how i blow a kiss goodbye
at the sangres in their sunset-peaches
as it all panoramas past out the 
oblong, curved-corner train windows

mighty heavy  i warn the attendant who says he’ll move my backpack
into the correct car since he boarded me
onto the incorrect one
what have you got in here, bricks? he jokes
just a few i joke back


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