The World
Series of Survival: Dogs: 1, Fish: 0
Meg the catcher is
MVP |
the
old Jordan place / nextdoor to Sarah's parents' / in Sunbury / on her
30th birthday. / an old iron, exposed
element, / stalled forever Farmall
tractor, / a large tire, / rooted
trailer, / trees grow up, / around
it all / like grass blades / through a small bird corpse. / the field is
flat / for the winter, / trees stand naked / stripped by wind. / today it's
sunny, / unseasonably warm, / Mini the
dog crawls / under low barbed wire, / rusted long, / Meg the medium brown
/ bounds off, / Sarah calls after, / finally catches her, / "you want the
leash?" / she asks / and towards me they walk, / the sun is so warm. / 2
deer turn tail, / some hunters pull up, / "plowed under" i think / of old
man Jordan, / his burned down house, / and the black walnut / that used to
stand / in this field, / related to me / as a story, / i can almost see it,
/ branches and leaves, / as you and you and you / are here with me / in this
dry yellow dream. / a buzzard circles / and a prop plane / chops the air
/ into stairs, / climbing into the cloudless blue. / on our backs, looking
up, / a dose of infinity, / while on the ground / sarah fingers 2 leaves
/ "see?" she says, / "soy beans..." |