she likes maps.
as the tour bus travels,
she traces the roads they take,
creates a picture more Rorshach
than Rembrandt. the boys tease,
mainly because boys are cruel, but
also because she lets them. she
doesn't like it when they do, but she
is too tired to shield herself from scorn.
she talks to her father, who tells her of
death soon expected. she calls her mother,
who informs her of death just past. she thinks about
burials she'll miss and burials she'll see.
she isn't sure how she should respond
to this. she is bemused by it.
the bus drives past history and scenery,
but she can't stop to smell the country
roses, no, she has to keep a schedule.
her time is not her own. this bothers her.
(gone are the green dress days.)
it's been a month. she's tired and misses life.
she takes small comfort in the lines she traces
from Michigan to Ohio.