stock tank poem

Backpack on the seat
slam my old truck door
glance at her profile
clutch snaps off the floor,

Wheel kick up some gravel
rear end swerves a bit
this girl next to me
her left leg and her tit,

Kicks off her sandals
bare feet on the dash
first to second gear
phone poles start to flash,

Past the side window
Ford rattles up to speed
reaches in her bag
pulls out a little weed,

Lights a joint and gives me
a toke and a grin
shift into forth gear
and look at her, again,

This county road runs straight
through sage and tumbleweed
I’ve driven it before
not sure where it’ll lead,

Twenty miles later
two joints and a beer
off a side dirt track
adjust the rearview mirror,

Up beside the stock tank
this hot July day
suggest we take a dip
she blinks and says, OK,

Peel back my work shirt
pull off a cowboy boot
watch this girl watch me
thin as a concert flute,

She follows my suggestion
pulls off her top and jeans
could be twenty-something
or still in her teens,

Take off my other boot
Levi’s, boxer shorts
She slips out of her panties
her nakedness nearly hurts,

We splash into the water
icy cold, a surprise
under hot midday sun
soft blue cloudless skies,

I float flat on my back
she slides between my knees
in the chilly stock tank water
we sail the seven seas,