The woman the lineman loves
is safe somewhere in the 60’s.
She moves through the kitchen
the country station plays on her radio.
She looks out the window,
Water running over a soapy dish.
She watches for him,
ruffled curtains flutter in the breeze.

She wears a flowery print dress
From JC Penney on Main Street.
Hanging laundry she
Watches through wet shirts,
Flapping dry in the wind.
Fingers tighten on a clothespin,
Plucked from between full lips,
her chest rises quickly, someone’s coming,
Not him.

She brushes her forehead with a hand
Dusting it with flour,
Bread, cake, pies in the oven.
Church on Sundays, fried chicken in the afternoon.
The screen door creaks open
Slams shut.
She steps out, searches,
Dust on the horizon,
Not his truck.

A young girl grew up,
Grew old waiting,
left behind a dream
Somewhere in the 60’s.
The time already passed,
back in Wichita.