Dear Charles,

The wagon is a piece of workmanship.
You've spent so many hours together
in the barn, tending to each other's
needs, caressing each inch with plane
and brush. I see your loving touch
in every part tongue and grooved, and see
the way your eyes follow the curve
of the wheels. I wanted you to know
that if you'd spent as much time climbing
on top of me as you did that damned wagon,
the dust cloud still visible down the trail
wouldn't have me and Frank Martin ahead of it.

Yours no longer,
Martha

April 2006