Glenn Carstens-Peters photography
BOONDOCKS
I see her every Monday.
Her feet are pedaling
in time-out mode.
She's slower
than my little days.
She's shyer than
the prayer book.
I see her sometimes
on a cover
of women's magazines.
She winks at me
and I surrender.
She has a
''Je ne sais quoi''
which calms
any chaos in me.
I would like
to walk together
through ditches
and luxury pavers.
But she's burning it
in a textile factory
from where
she is telling me
she does something simple
and she feels alive.
She gave up
complicated things,
complicated people,
those like me.
She has the notion
of Sundays
when you just sit
and listen.
She is a simple song from other boondocks.