Fishing At Mill Dam, Hanover IL

Poem   Fishing At Mill Dam, Hanover IL Olive dark, its deep-inked lines stone slates, knit like a well-made roof, from feathered gills down the carp’s length, to the hem of its tail. A dragon’s muscled back rolls thick-skinned, and is swallowed, hard, by the...

Gathering

Poem   Gathering Twenty years ago in Illinois I lived my life in fields, watching daybreak push through barn walls into bands of haydust and summer. Memory ties me to weather, the thick swarm of air mid-day that shifts the fields into motion, and the coolness of...

Meadow

Poem   Meadow Hen houses fill the meadow: each a metal barrel dumped on end, lined into rows and deep columns. Roosters stand atop the drums, their frames shards of red and yellow, or the luminous green of darkness. There is only silence, and the middle of their...