<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=366744" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Dear Deborah,</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">They tell me that your heart <br>has been found in Iowa, <br>pumping along Interstate 35. <br>Do you want it back? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">When the cold comes on <br>this fast, it's Iowa again-- <br>where pollen disperses <br>evenly on the dented Fords, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">where white houses sag <br>by the town's corn silos, <br>where people in the houses <br>sicken on corn dust. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Auctions sell entire farms. <br>It's not the auctions that's upsetting <br>but what they sell, the ragged towel <br>or the armless doll, for a dollar. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I hear they've found <br>an eye of yours in Osceola <br>calling out to your mouth in Davis City. <br>That mouth of yours is in the bar, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">the only place left in town, <br>slow dancing and smoking. <br>It's no wonder you look so pale. <br>Ever wish you'd done more </div><div style="margin:10px 0">with your thirty years? <br>Seeing you last week I wonder <br>if you crave that sky <br>filled with the milky way </div><div style="margin:10px 0">or the sight of Amish girls in blue <br>at sunset against wheat-colored prairie grass. <br>Here, the trees are full of gossip. <br>They're waiting to see what you'll do next.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Deborah+Ager">Deborah Ager</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=366744" data-title="Dear Deborah, de Deborah Ager" data-description="They tell me that your heart has been found in Iowa, pumping along Interstate 35. Do you want it back? When the cold comes on this fast, it's Iowa again-- where pollen disperses evenly on the dented Fords, where white houses sag by the ..."></div> </div> </div>

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