Ignore the hardness
of the window’s ledge. Gaze
through pained glass
at farmers roaming rows
of raked dirt and corn crops. Consider
the comfort in those stalks
how leaves both nestle
and protect. Remember
clinging to a stem, the calming scents
of earth and border rock, the dampness
of the clay. Take comfort
where you can. Watch for earthworms
working root-tangled soil,
notice other omens. The low
setting sun; the crows flying east,
the shadows on fields resting
under an otherwise Utah-blue sky,
the quick evening breeze pulling at you.
Don’t regret what’s gone. Anticipate
the prick of the paring knife. Trust
that it will come and when it does,
hope the blade will catch. Hope
that it will tear away the bruised
and tender marks that come
from sitting in the sun too long
from being picked
at by beetles, from having
thin skin, from falling
among rocks. Imagine
that the pulp
around the deepest scars
is sweetest.
Originally published in the Atlanta Review. Forthcoming in Make Space (Finishing Line Press, 2023)
Poet’s Corner is curated by Bucks County Poet Laureate Tom Mallouk and supported by a grant to the Bucks County Herald Foundation made possible by Marv and Dee Ann Woodall.
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