A sparrow with a broke wing
outside the door versus walking beneath
a
row of trees filled with flittering
sparrows.
Both were part of that day the hay
stacks
were draped in blue blankets in the
fields,
they asked can the cows keep up, can
we
milk them smarter, turn their shit
into electricity if the milk doesnt
obey?
It was
that day-- day I fed the dog
her
vitamin, carried a full bucket
of
yellow corn to the deer house, watched
for
the wave
of its flicking,
white tail.
It was the weekend
I came
home with blisters
in my mouth,
chigger bites
on my breasts, laid
hawk feather
on the dash of my
car. I found
a rusted apple
beneath the seat.
It was the week I
pulled the nails out
of the blue carpet
that you never said,
If you make it
to the end with scars-- a toe
missing, you've lived well.
You
said instead I'd need to replace
your mother's
candle-- the one
that melted that
summer
onto the table
outside, the white
one youd kept on
the mantle for looks.
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