I asked my God
for a black leather biker jacket
from the secondhand store
about twenty dollars, please,
I said
instead He did me one better
and answered
a long unspoken wish
I’d eyed one
in the J. Peterman catalog
for years
a duster,
cowboy coat,
made of oilcloth
split down the back
straps for each leg
my father frowned
at my tomboyishness
when I was a teenager
and refused to buy it
but my God
found me one, black,
at the secondhand store
for twenty-five dollars
my God,
who answers back,
“Ride ‘em, cowgirl!”
Categories: Poetry