For Mary
Think brushfire in a gazebo,
Mother Mary shedding what seems
to be truth, an absolute
answer to questions that
have sparked an interest in her
for years.
Perhaps, the bigger picture is mobile, steady
and traveling and skirting its way
across every kid on campus.
This one girl is laughing, another is
Shaking her dark mane of hair,
Smoking a Marlboro Red.
She is on fire and I
Want to be on fire, too.
Anything to avoid the frost.
Locals say the campus it coldest when November
Chills the bone, stays close to our chest
But nothing can be worse than
Watching a group
huddle together,
one cigarette passing between all
Six of them.
I wonder if there’s room for one more.