You never sent postcards,
So I place you.
I can't imagine you in sunlight.
If I place you,
If I care to at all,
It's from my car and
It's at night.
I place you always under
A lonely light,
In a out-of-the way place.
Tonight I watch you
From the interstate:
I see you walk down
A gravel road and
Pass under a single lamp
Atop a tall wooden pole,
Your shadow bumps
Along a wall of corn till
Billboards block my view.
Maybe tomorrow I'll place
You under a streetlight, at
An ungodly hour, and
Watch you mail a postcard.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem