You could have a big dipper   

On the Range by Jeanine Stevens



Husband at the blackjack table in a fancy casino

south of Reno. In the deco lounge, I prefer

a jazz combo and gin gimlet.

A small round table for two; I don’t gamble.


Cowboy—

“Can I share your space mam?”


Just off the range, face ruddy,

forehead snow white.

Just showered with hotel gift soap,

wet shirt collar. Tosses his sweat ringed

Stetson on the back of a chair.

Eyes my wedding band, yet his mind

still on open grasslands,

smell of sage and leather,

where skies are not cloudy all day

A brief visit to bank his earnings,

send cash to his mother living

in a trailer park in Santa Monica

where life is more complicated.

He is anxious to return home near

the Ruby Mountains, where

wild antelope encroach on grazing lands.


After a couple of Budweisers,

“I don’t gamble either, but I do

appreciate the encouraging words.”



Jeanine Stevens is from California's Central Valley. Jeanine is a fan of movies, dance, collage, and of course poetry.

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