Summer Afternoon, Southern Maryland

All the way down Route 301, we argue
in short bursts; our words knife the hot 
July air till we turn at Beuler’s Bait & Tackle
and fly over dirt roads lined with tomato stands.
Straight ahead lies the Chesapeake Bay.

Our voices grow languorous; we pull over 
and you take my hand from the steering wheel 
while high overhead, barn swallows soar, 
call across the blue Maryland sky, 
lure us to the ravenous jellyfish sea.