after Frank Stanford
the dovetailed chest of rifles in Kyle’s basement
called our names sirenlike
the Skoal ring in John’s backpocket
took the shape of a halo an unimportant angel
the mud and wild smeared across Bret’s face
flying off the rope-swing into air untouched
the dust fracturing light on Justin’s windshield
driving down dry mill road into forever
the blood on Stuart’s mouthguard after his chin
split like an overripe peach
the empty beer bottles in Sean’s red pickup
kept us from sleep
&
the riverwater in my open eyes
a kiss
© Zachary Lundgren

