Construction Zone

Sunsets for sale

"Oh! Would you look at that sky!" she says.

"It comes to three thousand,

six hundred and fifty dollars," I say,

"but if you will step over here

I'll show you how we can eliminate — "

"Oh! But just look at that sky! "

I glance. I haven't time.

She has white hair to my brown,

bright eyes to my lids hanging down.

I will never live that long.

She knows a better song.

To close one more deal

to pay one more debt,

I miss

one more sunset.

Note: Sometimes, though, you need to keep your eye on the job. A few years later I wrote this poem about the same woman:

She was seventy-five at the wheel

of that big Mercury

when it flew off the highway

in a drainage ditch by a bean field

where two fieldworkers beat out the flames

and ran from the cops

but she and her husband were both

already dead. Instantly. Horribly.

And all their riches went instantly,

horribly to probate but I'll bet

what she said just before the Merc

took flight was Oh! Won't you look

at that sky!