Most things come to the country
late, like
microwaves, dishwashers,

and cordless phones. For years,
I sat
tethered to the BellSouth

kitchen wall mount, its cork-
screw cord
pinched through the dining

room door so I could talk
to my girl, who lived way

on the other side of town,
her home
planted in the middle

of rolling pastures and corn,
streams and
woods, where we could park

and strip down to skin, nothing
but skin
between us and the rest

of the wild, changing world,
our every
motion analog

to the theoretically
coupling of stars.