Guinevere
she’s somewhere
in Tennessee
still playing with black bears
and picking lavender
from her hair
awake with the moon
pointing up at the stars
and giving them names
she pulls out her guitar
and sings
and I wonder if she’s happy
not the ha ha happy
but the I’m-living-my-little-girl-dream-happy
there in the wilderness
of winter and wildflowers
mountain streams
in mist
her footprints worn on the path
the birds are chirping
like crickets
and raindrops
and I think I heard her
humming
TL