mirage

her man has driven to the
Oklahoma state line twice
a week for twenty years
to put in his numbers,
hit the big time,
while she pulled
two shifts at the
paper mill, dreaming
small dreams of owning
a professional stove
with a double oven and
a stainless steel
refrigerator, a little
pie shop of her own

the mill’s gone now, and
they live in the same shack
on the river, eating
dust from passing
farm rigs - duallys
from Farm Aid
and monster tractors
financed by the
government that will rust
before they’re paid for
while she
can’t afford to get
her teeth fixed

now, when he drives
to Oklahoma,
she rides with him,
nodding when he talks
of all the things they’re
gonna do when his
numbers hit, and she smiles
for him as she watches
the road disappear under
their wheels, finding
his dreams better than
none at all