Witherspoon-Jackson Cowboy

Save a horse,

ride a bird

I’ll be gone in the blink of an eye

flying away from the cul de sacs

and small-town dreams

I kiss the old man

sitting on the porch

watching a race of cars

a small tear escapes from his eye

when I promise I’ll be back soon

coins from Palmer

in my pocket

all those wishes lost

and found

in the fountain

bags are packed

with pieces of birch

and other useless trinkets

enough to make a nest

wherever I land

I’ll be gone for a while

but they won’t even miss me

I’ll make

some good trouble

before I go

we rolled down

from Nassau,

and like so, I will return,

hair wild, eyes clear,

changed forever

by the fall