Sunday, May 28, 2017


I am coming along well enough.

I have cleared the brush
from the fence line as far

as the river, where I watched
a young hawk diving and coming up

empty on yet another morning
when the frost stayed ‘til noon.

I will set my sights on the rest
of the day, soon enough.

I expect habit will lead to a look
toward the kitchen window, down

the old rows of corn, or at the porch swing
hanging slack in the afternoon.

So I will see to it there is wood
to split and horses to shoe.

Later, when I have made my way
to the bar in town, no one

will say a word.  But someone 
will buy the first round, and others

see the glass stays full.

(from A Clean, Well-lighted Place, 2013)

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