Saturday, May 3, 2014

walk a mile, a poem in progress

walk a mile

place you come home to
home here amidst lichen
slow growing

the warming reveals
stones from snow
at the field’s corner 

the hill’s ethereal cover
blanket of snow

boots crunch in the trough
of the ditch’s morning ice
pit my toe on the studly
gravel-frozen road

sickle shaped gouges
pattern the slough
drained and dry
lose a wetland
for the extra acre

place you come home to

hums buzz along the power line
breath clouds my glasses
geese stand, alert as frost
hoarded on branches

black and yellow
the tip a flash
a goldfinch feather
the place you come home to

dirt peppers
the snow around shrubs
sprayed with poison
in the ditches

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