I Always Wanted Galway Kinnell’s Hair, by David B. Prather

that loamy color of soil deep in a forest, that shadow
beneath pine trees, that musk of wild things hidden,
watching every move,
                                        that touch of wind,
that finger-combed look where locks fall over
the forehead, that hint of carelessness
looking devil-may-care, looking sexual
or roguish or midsummer-night-dreamish.
I always wanted
                                        that casual look
like I just rolled out of bed after making love,
that sense of getting away with something
even though the whole world knows
                                        what I’ve been up to,
that feeling of spending another night
in the ruins with rocks and branches,
sky and fog and stars above.
                                       Someone waits
for just this moment, knowing all I want,
to walk into the house after flower herding,
hair in my eyes, that kind of blindness
when someone, a lover, brushes their fingers
across my face to sweep those strands away.



David B. Prather is the author of We Were Birds (Main Street Rag Publishing). His work has appeared in many journals, including Prairie Schooner, Colorado Review, and Poet Lore. He studied acting at The National Shakespeare Conservatory, and he studied writing at Warren Wilson College. He lives in Parkersburg, WV.