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Untitled
Tracy Talley

at night…
the bare winter trees look like spiny feathers.
rolling hills resembling carpeted waves surround us
caress the road

sometimes…
rubber band bridges stretch from riverbank to riverbank
collecting glints like silver confetti
sprinkled on lakes, on oceans,
bathing the shore in wishes

the telephone poles are permanent Egyptian dancers
holding heavy threads with jewel encrusted fingers
sending messages toward the center of the earth
telling them all
I dream of farmhouses and porches
Spot red barns and imagine a nap in soft hay
stale walls ornamented with watercolors
pointing the way to restrooms in a cold mall with
young breasts and wallet-chains
youth crossing county lines into unknown adulthood
paranoia reconstructed through social lobotomies
performed at the local McDonald’s

behind big wheels and fiberglass
in the realm of places where cold anonymity is like
a motley crew of ghosts
lost on imagination and good deeds
the pulse of routine caffeine beating away like a drum
water to quench our mouths and maybe
our souls
notes of music and cowboy hats
swinging arms dancing through fog created by cigarettes
creased bodies with accents and light beer

wondering where we’ll be when it becomes later
later
knowing the adventure was twisted like an old tree
rooting its legs into familiar happiness
its arms in the air, flowing like chalk dust
or grey rain
a blue sky singing
the song of our present


“I am a strong woman who is in love with travel, food and color. My sidekick in life is experience and my soulmate is adventure. I love to meet people and create a connection between those I have met before and those I meet along the way.” Tracy Talley

 

 

 

 

 
The Women’s College Magazine at Santa Monica College
Copyright 2003 Santa Monica College