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Flagger- PS
My partner called out cars she sent
as we stood at opposite ends
of the work zone, and when
hers had passed, I called out mine
sending them along a narrow passage.
We found a common language
to communicate, and we made
small talk when things were slow.
The construction crew struggled
to settle each fresh coat of asphalt
over a moist bed of clay
of a two-lane in northeast Nebraska
arcing and curving over hills and valleys
between two unincorporated areas.
Black angus cows grazed
on a grassy hill, coincidental beauty found
in another time and place,
and a bull bellowed
to declare the spread his own.
After work my partner and I stood
outside our rooms at the hotel.
She talked about her husband
and I talked about a librarian
who read my poems.
While we spoke about our
lives back home, a light in the lot
shone a distant star.
Copyright ©
Mike Bayles
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