It has two ends, of course

It has two ends, of course,
Both anchored in corn,
Between there's nary a bend.

Right over the hood the moon rises full,
Lined up with the wires,
Its face eager and gold.
"Shit," you say, "That's so beautiful".
Come morning it'll set,
Unseen, tired and worn,
Extinguished in the pavement
At the far end of town,
"Perhaps," you say, "Those pioneers
Moved here from Stonehenge."

You park the car by the house,
"Let's take a walk, it's such a nice night."
And though I'd rather go in, eat, and rest,
We do, the remains of the sunset a dusty red light
Silhouetting the pavement narrowed by distance,
The rising moon forgotten behind us.

After only a minute, your cell rings
And you begin to chat, your hand in mine,
(I guess it's our daughter, though maybe its a friend)
I certainly don't mind. Your voice joins
The birds, the frogs, the cries of children
Playing Kick the Can in backyards safely hidden.

We pass the old brick high school,
Now elderly condos. We looked at one once,
But you declined, "I refuse to die again,
Where we died so often back then,
Cause: cruel and unusual verb conjugation
On constitutions much weakened
By excessive poetry discussion."

Now no kids spill out to walk uptown
To spend their money on pop and floats
At soda fountains long gone.
The school's out of town near the crater
That holds the Wal-Mart and the Super Kroger,
The inmates locked down as if it were prison.
At that soda fountain you'd sit on the end
And steal pretzels from the jar
When the guy maybe wasn't looking.
Pretzels which I'd walk back
And pay for, later on.

We come to the light,
A church on each corner.
So many of my friends
Took that light,
Turned left and left town,
Got on the interstate and left.

Beyond, where the drugstore once was,
Now you can get tanned, pierced and tattooed.
We stop, this is as far as we'll walk.

I look at the brick church on the far corner.
Where we sang in the kids' choir,
Endured youth group together,
And at autumn fairs tarried,
And where you got married.

Because I was a fool, or not, we broke up
And I took that turn at the light.

Often now when I'm tired and can't sleep,
I walk with you in memory so fond and so false.
You look at me and say,
"You're tired, she'll drive us home,
If you like. And I say OK."
It's not as effective as sheep.