Watching a Movie In Bed In New York

Watching a movie in bed in New York,
I think I recognize the green soy fields of Ohio.
My eyes, trained one year
in the angular
graphite of street and skyscraper,
are struck by the wild green.

I look past the faces of the farmers,
the deep wells of fear in their eyes,
wanting only to see the grass and oak,
the green I can hardly believe,
the smooth yellow fields,
the occasional patches of shady trees,
the long gray roads and heavy blue skies.

I want to lie down in those fields,
I want to drive those gray roads.
The wide green seems a good bed
but there the garter snake lies.