not many things
give me the power
to feel good these days,

but last night
while idling at a red light
‘i fall to pieces’
came on the radio
and i found myself
singing along
as if i had grabbed the mic
out of Patsy Cline’s hand

at the moment
it was a simpler time
and every good feeling
rushed me at once

i could smell the wood polish
in my grandma’s house
and hear the wind chimes
on the patio

i could see junipers swaying
in the Antelope Valley wind,
and the tractor in the dirt
waiting patiently
to excite a child,
or remove dead gorse

there was my grandpa
on the porch swing
fingerpicking his guitar,
usually playing a Willie Nelson song
but never singing

he never sang

i could hear the loggerhead shrike
perched on the shoulder
of a joshua tree,
and laughter in the hills
where i chased lizards
and caught sunburns

but then the song ended
and the DJ started in
about new stay-at-home orders
issued to the county

and i went back to hating
all the madness around me,

especially the horn
of the guy behind me
who just wanted to get the hell home