The distance between Darmstadt
and Haubstadt in 1958 was five miles,
more or less, and still is, evoking
a sameness that pleasures the mind,
both towns north of Evansville
on Highway 41, not to mention
the black-headed goat still crossing
the road among the sheep, my girl
snuggled tight and popping Dentyne,
this in my dad’s new Buick with one
of those grinning grilles, WJPS
rockin’ us due south to the Sunset
Drive-in where the on-screen clock
is timing down, though we both know
there’s time to spare, cartoons
and previews before the lion roars,
announcing the main feature,
and above it all the man in the moon
as stoic as ever in spite of the stars.
This poem originally appeared in Innisfree Poetry Journal 16 (2013).
Roger Pfingston’s poems have appeared in magazines, books, and anthologies over a period of fifty years. In 1997 he retired from teaching English and photography in Bloomington, where he lives with his wife Nancy. His latest chapbook is A Day Marked for Telling, published by Finishing Line Press. New poems appear in recent issues of Passager, Innisfree Poetry Journal, and Naugatuck River Review.
Indiana Humanities is posting a poem a day from Indiana poets in celebration of National Poetry Month.