...Patsy Cline in the desert
By Richard James Allen
Published 12 February 2021
Our souls are waiting for us,
but they will not linger
for our emergencies.
They don’t understand time.
No more than a casual glance,
no more than a witnessing nod,
no more than an inverse howdy-doody
as they bang the screen door
at the back of the last bar
on the highway for 100 miles.
All that is left when we arrive
~ lonesome at the bar ~
a Scotch with no rocks in it
and a juke box playing...