no good fallin'

       
       
no good loving a woman        
until you know she has poetry in her        
so took her last night      
after dark        
to the sea wall pushed out from the cliffs      
       
no wind blowing      
no waves hurling      
cold enough to hold tight      
and no moon to swear by        
       
had two cans of king-hitting bourbon each        
sitting in my truck with the heater on        
talking low        
her with her feet up on the dash        
knees apart        
making me think all the usual dirty ditties        
but I'd fucked her at lunch-time      
so no work to do        
       
liquor aint really my thing these days        
but there are some nights        
and some women        
that need a drink        
so I waited for the warmth of the bourbon        
to show on her cheeks        
then took up my torch        
and shut off the truck      
       
we went walking out along the seawall        
where every rock has been painted up       
one rock at a time        
to mark the big things        
we measure our small lives by;        
weddings        
funerals        
we-was-here’s        
every rock a page of life      
some fresh-done      
some fading      
some unreadable      
and once or twice a rock painted      
in memorial        
for a child died early        
       
those ones shook me        
       
she walked beside me        
both of us talking        
her not remarking much        
and then we passed a rock that hit close enough to her story        
to stop her dead      
she stood      
to let the torch-light play over it        
       
I let her be        
       
saw her wear a memory      
felt the past come some way alive      
then saw her shake it off        
retake my arm        
and we walked on      
       
another rock      
another life      
       
 
I pulled her close