Letter Written After Leaving Fresno

I’ll return for one night, carrying you
papaya. Thickly cut. Resembling
 
driftwood scattered below the parking lot
I can see from Sacramento’s river bridges.
 
I’m taking I-5 south to 99. Cut tomato
skins roll in foil. My chest
 
drops like ocean swells I could only
see once a year. Don’t watch
 
me as I’m dying. Say Mt. Shasta’s sudden
rain fills the sky. A soul of mine
 
lost itself deep in Valley dirt. Maybe
it’ll escape tonight. Let me call it.
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