A country song echoes through the warehouse
Cedar and summer dust
The words unintelligible, but the tempo nostalgia,
Melody in the minor key of longing
The music pulls at memories

At seventeen, riding out Refinery Road to Avon 
Past the slough, the railroad tracks
Or Franklin Canyon, 
Low-slung oaks tracing desire’s deliberate turns
A September sky holding fall

Now I sit in this red truck waiting
And you in the dark loft
Draw out the best pieces of Alaskan yellow,
And the slide of wood on wood sings too

We stack the eight quarter planks on the rack
In rhythm, climb in
I’m old enough to have learned
How things can change in a beat
In the truck I slide close to you, 
You open the window to the tune’s fading drift