Shake Your Paint
in your eye Tucumcari sparkles, burns.
a bracing wind shearing flames
abrasively against baked bricks
peeling all the shades of paint
along the streets I see your faces
(turn your head,
shake your pink-spiked hair)
hear the tinkling laughter ring
& whistle blows on throbbing tracks
see your smiling faces
with winter's heat
spreading to your ruddy cheeks
warming Tucumcari trains
Copyright 1986, edited 2006 njTare
