You floated above me like clouds

I grew up in Kansas, and it felt like nothing fantastic ever happened. But all that changed the day my dad asked if I wanted to meet a poet. My parents were antique dealers and a potential new client (a poet!) called and wanted an estimate for what it would cost to strip and refinish a desk, chair, and piano.

I couldn’t believe I was going to meet a poet. Nothing this wonderful had ever happened to me. I would get to see how poets lived, and how they decorated their homes. This was going to be awesome!

And it was. I went with dad to meet Patricia Traxler. He looked at her antiques, and I looked at everything else. She hired my parents for the job. And I believe they did additional work for her over the course of a year.

I met a poet!

#############

WHAT THE FIELD KNOWS

by Patricia Traxler

At the edge of someone’s plowed field

under July sun we found one scrawny tree    I asked you the name

of the weed growing all along

barbed wire nearby      you opened

my blouse & kissed my breasts

you said it was either

wild oats or cheat grass

a yellowbilled cuckoo flew by

I took off my blouse

& lay back     the afternoon rocked

soft as a cradle

you floated above me like clouds

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