when we rode the River Queen
down the Big Sandy
from Twelve-Pole Creek
and a hung-over church organist, Windy
Skeens, clambered up the cabin roof,
sat down at a battered red-and-gold
steam calliope and slammed out Stars
and Stripes Forever with masterful flourish
and so loud, cows fled the river banks
and people waved white flags from the shore
and you said to me "honey, there's the guy
I want to have play for us at our wedding."