November Baptism

by Kristin LaFollette

Outside my window was a cab,
and I imagined you were in it.

Coming home,

your journeys recorded in the
lines on your face like
expressways.

And I wanted to carry you to a

brook and set you free,
a perch cut from a line.

The sediment would feel like salts
around our feet and we would

see white fences in the distance.

Today I dreamt you were standing
in the water and the clouds looked

like narrow ribs in the sky.


Copyright © 2012 by Kristin LaFollette

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