You'll Know Me Always by the Red Door

By James Croal Jackson

you said the first time I picked you up
on our way to a family-style dinner & 
then we drove through curvy hills I am 
not yet comfortable with, the darkness 
now so fitting. 

I came empty-
handed, I didn’t want to drink
too much then drive you home. &
we didn’t know anyone who’d be 
at our table but you’re better with 
strangers. The restaurant was on 
a corner facing a bus stop, and 
people watched as I drove doughnuts 
around the dual-railroad tracks
adjacent, seeking a place to park 
not marked by sign or road decay. 

I wanted to talk to you more 
about anything, but you opened 
my driver door
and walked me in.

James Croal Jackson is a Filipino-American poet who works in film production. He has three chapbooks: Count Seeds With Me (Ethel Zine & Micro-Press, 2022), Our Past Leaves (Kelsay Books, 2021), and The Frayed Edge of Memory (Writing Knights, 2017). He edits The Mantle Poetry from Pittsburgh, PA. (jamescroaljackson.com)