Stockholm, Virginia

I stand in this tobacco cash crop state
Dirty, ash-soled bare feet
On my personal slab of concrete
Or aching extremities
in run down heels
running over cobblestone
galloping through grass
or sliding on rain slick asphalt

I stand in this humid subtropical state
the damp warm air is Virginia’s chloroform rag over my face
I walk weary through the haze
loving the hills
I breathe in
breathe out
She breathes back
with the hot hungry breath of a predator

And I let her devour me whole
If she will let me call her home