With a Thunderstorm Coming On
In a by-the-week motel room.
she places a gold-with-crimson stripes
marble egg on a mini fridge.
It reminds her of all the music
that's carried her cowgirl heart
this far into Nebraska: Ogallala.
She's a chump change blonde at a cafe
where she gap-tooth smiles for slim tips.
She's a diamond to momma in Cheyenne.
She has no idea where daddy is.
She loves a boy who married for too little.
This late afternoon her little black dress
is tossed out a window to the first rain...
to prove some unspoken truth
from a McGuane novel she is reading
to her lover, both of them beguiled,
within thin age-warped walls,
by each other's High Plains longing.