Ode to Richard Brautigan: Montana

Now I'm maudlin
driving from the airport.
I notice things at this hour 

of the morning.
A person in a robe.
Is he going to buy
the Sunday paper?
I have the bustle of
a new town in my
eyes. There must
have been a scramble
back home, for drama's sake.
I notice the easy corner
people pushing carriages.
I am the unpredictable element.
We said goodbye again
and I felt like Montana trout.