in a red pickup truck
are
in the cul de sac.
their loud
engine idles in the road.
the back
is filled
with firewood.
cords and cords,
stacked
high.
they've driven all the way
from Winchester
Virginia.
they're a long way from
home.
they look tired.
they knock at the door,
but i tell
them that i don't have
a fireplace.
which disappoints them,
so i say
okay.
and buy a cord,
and give them a tip.
i watch them turn around,
and head
home.
the blue from their exhaust
clouding the new
moon.
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