When the Last Light Becomes Nocturnal Wind

And so however ridiculous Highway 20

Melts amazed by homeward  traffic

Lisping across the Mississippi bridge

The milk-brown river flowing deceptively

Sluggish beneath a flaccid skin that hides

Tangled muscles of current punching

Earth shouldering acres of soil past

Vicksburg whose windows cough

And spit geometric pools of bruised light

O Vicksburg! you offer the unquiet gift

Of a smile when you let the world go

With your head thrown back among

Raucous dogs your ravenous throat 

Slugging the day’s last colors