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Sally Clark Poetry

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Sally Clark is an accomplished Poet and Author She has been a Pushcart Prize Nominee. Her poetry has been published in Relief: A Quarterly Christian Expression Journal.

LOS COMPADRES
the companions

After customers are all gone home,
after floors are mopped and silver
rolled and all the tips cashed in,
after a brutal day of cooking and serving
and complaining, we all go out to eat,

caravanning into the midnight stars,
hands trailing out open windows,
two miles out of town to the only place open with food,
troop in with our sweat-soaked bills,
tired feet, catsup-stained aprons, and crabby attitudes

and fill the red vinyl booths (except the one
reserved for Elvis) and serape-topped tables,
order enchiladas, tacos, burritos and beer,
Julie’s special of the day, piñatas swinging from the ceiling
and sombreros glazing the walls bored with

our complaints about stiff customers and split tickets,
laughter shaking the air like maracas,
while outside, across the road, whitetail deer
graze in the moonlight on wild grasses and acorns,
bedded down cows toss up their last meals
and swallow again, while hound-dog coyotes
serenade a blue suede moon.

 

DIAMONDBACK

The pickup truck lurched as
he stepped on the brakes, even at
our dirt-road speed, and said,
stay here in the cab and
armed with a shotgun he grabbed
from the back, approached the reptile
stretched across the road, took aim and
fired a solid shot into its head,
jerking the body into contortions as it
rose into the air and fell back to the dirt
from whence it came.

Then he took her, my precious, my wonder
and innocent, and walked her to the place where
the body lay in pious curves; stooped low to
the ground and pointed as she stared at the
flesh, the scales, the fangs; listened as he shook
the awful, chilling rattles; warned her,
our solemn faced cherub, of the death that it
might bring her as I prayed, Lord, please, close
her eyes to his serpentine beauty, please, blind her
to his awful God-created glory, his jewel-patterned
skin and golden glint and freeze her heart to
the desire to follow his lies down that
wicked garden path;

and so we both protect her, as best we can.

 

WEATHER REPORT
The weather channel says
“plenty of sunshine” like
that’s a good thing, like
we’d just survived a monsoon
and the grass was soggy
and we were tracking mud
into the house on the bottoms
of our shoes and like the skies
hadn’t been an empty turquoise
forever;

like the cactus weren’t starting to shrivel
or the creek bottoms beginning to crack
or the leaves on the fruitless mulberry tree
weren’t slowly turning inward,
rolling themselves into folded palms,
funnels praying not to die while
the doe at the edge of the woods puzzles
the yellowing grass crunching
beneath her hooves.

***

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My award-winning poetry has been published in Relief: A Quarterly Christian Expression Journal, Weavings, Chrysalis Reader, two years issues of The Binnacle, Bacopa Literary Review, Manifest West: Even Cowboys Carry Cell Phones, Windhover, Lifting the Sky: Southwestern Haiku & Haiga, five years issues of Texas Poetry Calendar, Poetry of the Southwest Persona Poems, Poetry and Business: A Journal of Incorporated Verse, Lamar University Press Texas Weather: An Anthology of Poetry, Short Fiction, and Nonfiction and 12 gift books compiled by June Cotner and published by various publishers.

Sally Clark

Published inPoetry

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