Privacy

Dust from between the gravel
on the road spirals upward toward
the cloudless sky. Nomadic salesmen
park on the shoulder for a while and
read the thick books they brought with
them to pass the time. Old cats who
have hunted in those parts for years
use the combs on their tongues to remove
dried blood from their fur. A group of
kids, held up in a shady cove, wack at
wiffle balls with long sticks because
the yellow bat that came with them has since
been lost. A teenage couple adjusts their
underwear through their jeans and t-shirts
as they walk to the car they left by the edge of
the woods. The branches of the trees above them
click together with the wind like they were applauding
their futile effort at privacy.