Progress Takes Change

I.
Rain’s no good for layin’
Tracks.
They’ll sink in the mud.
But rain ain’t gunna bother us.
Sweatin’ in the rain’s
A good way to stay cool
Movin’ a town a mile’s progress
To the west.
Wife’s callin’. Tellin’ me
To come inside.
Shoulda been me
Catchin’ that damp fever,
Chills pullin’ me under.
New town.
Old Place.
Damn Fever
Takin’ my shit.

II.
That cement bites hard
When you’re twelve
And rollin’ down the walk.
Thinkin’, “If that ankle
Woulda been stronger,”
Not rollin’ under pressure
No chunks of skin
Would be stuck on the stairs.
You’d limp to the car, too,
Just so Mom could take you in
And get you fixed up
And bring you home
To find a horse in the catch pen.
You’d forget:
The ache
The pain
The sting
All for that first ride.