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What Is There to Do in Mississippi?
by Ann Fisher-Wirth
It’s not about desire,
this land that pulls us in
and gets us lost on back roads
till we come to an impassable bridge
at midnight by some bayou.
Our headlights useless, we just
sit silent
where kudzu looms like velvet
to swathe and choke the pines.
Crickets chirr. Spring peepers
clamber to crescendo in the waters.
Later, we touch. I hold your face in my hands
and my body comes alive
like those crickets in the kudzu.
But now we sit not touching in the car.
The singing night pours down around us.
Great splayed towering leaves
begin to teach us our oblivion.
Published in Blue Window (Archer Books, 2003).