Douglas McHargue, Saturday’s April

Douglas McHargue
SATURDAY’S APRIL

everybody moving,
pick-ups like yard sales
on wheels. In fast food lot
trailered truck with scarred table
weeps junk. Inside Wendy’s,
wife with cane rests,
says to husband,
my gloves fell off the truck,
his face ruddy from the sun
of years, telling tomatoes
turn red.
Mockingbird on Wendy’s sign
mocks Quality Matters
turns it to toilet.
Girl with dad, watches
tedious fingers polish phone
like it’s marble from Italy
where he’d gladly go
mine marble fields
if he knew the words.
Two guys turn corner,
pick-up loaded, basket holding
topiary, its round ball
like the head of a baby
nomadic and lost.

Bio: From Statesville, NC, Douglas McHargue is a frequent contributor to Wild Goose Poetry Review and has been published in The Best of Poetry Hickory.