Poetry
Poem: Land
Silk snow covers the forest
And orchards around my mother’s cabin.
Like a little boy looking for bullet shells
On a battle field at midnight,
I creep through the wood.
Going by the doublewide near the dead stream
I hear him shoo away possums with a sludge
And beagle,
As he did me last fall,
Where you from boy?
My inheritance is behind me and the snow melt
Flow in my leather boots.
I don’t care if she was my neighbor
Or if yer mutha was Mary herself,
Coyotes sing to the moon and laugh at their prey.
I picture their teeth sinking in the skin painted red.
Sic’em boy!
I don’t see the sunken log and trip—my face a cold pale shining.
I wander a bit more through the dark thickets
Where the ice around thorns and pines beam at me
Shivering,
Take yer stroll somewhere else.
I can see the cabin’s heater flicker
In front of the loom,
I hear the poppings of his aerosol cans
Thrown in a blazing woodfire.
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