The Duchess

Remove the bandage
from your shoulder
I remember being lost in Iowa
the advice you wrote
on the back of a map
in cursive
with an antique pen
the black line leads
to the tattooed arm
of the duchess

Wrapped in robes
and Belgian lace
You remember the greatest
of all loves
Meanwhile
pickup trucks part
the cold cornstalks
nearby acorns fall
to the tombstone
of the duchess