He Used to Call me Girl

He used to call me girl
Summer nights when the top was down
In his little red car blowing my hair
That caught him in a smile he drove
Through the summer hills
And I felt their round curves were my own
His car like a hand fast and holding the road

The hills are weathered brown now
And creases sag againstthe base
Where a stern looking steer
Eyes the snake of road
That caresses the haze
Waiting for water from a long ago time
Where he remembers a stream

I can see how this land was formed
By the palm of an ocean
And rain came hard and ran its fingers
Across the valley

The round curves are my own again
Cloaked in a piece of hot fabric
Passed down through time
to blend against the sky
In a pale thought that believes
In continuance
And some sturdy knap
That sometimes rubs out time
And sometimes saves it
In a memory that never changes

So like the sea he was
His skin like salt his tidal hands came
Into the inlets of my youth and touched
Something that would never be the same

Except when I remember
That he used to call me girl