Crumbs

You held me
Out digging for fireweed
Buckteeth blooming with buckwheat
Pastoral fiction

Ranch dressing, flannel heading
Blue jeans giddying up
Belt straining

Your knees were dirty
You told me you’d been praying

Feeding licorice to horses
Mixed with medicine

Remember me when I was him
Or when the sea salt stained my chin

Vol-au-vents stuffed to the brim
With tuna and all the breadcrumbs that
Blew away with the wind.