Last night,
Water tossed,
You crossed the line.
Why?
What happened to me?

I’ve been reading up on books
With a touch of impatience.
Point is,
It ain’t right.

That land belonged to the mountains,
The coast,
The heart.

Ever since I was little
I’ve been watchin’
The piney woods,
The creeks, the glades
Of your heart.
Same thing happens everywhere.

Torn jeans.
Crumpled piece of paper.
A letter.
This is what you send back.