1
At the edge
of a scrapyard in Iowa
a girl in a blue dress sits
on a tire swing, legs flying.
A frog croaks hoarsely
from the well of her throat.

2
In a soft September sun
rows of stubby, dried-out
corn stalks turn
into a gold-leaf fresco
by Giotto: maidens
in ephemeral negligees.

3
The dusty road curls
like uncut ribbon.
In the distance
a red barn tilts, a hunched
old man still standing,
tipping his hat.

4
In the wetlands a heron
perches on one leg,
waiting for fish, staring
at its own reflection.
Geese land to gossip,
then travel on.

5
In a field, a buck
struts, antlers higher
than prairie. The doe
anxiously snorts
and stomps her hooves,
kicking up coneflowers.

6
Deep in the ground
of my garden, spuds put on
burkas, modest
and quiet, singing soft
prayers in the dark
mosques of the earth.

Published in the Winter ‘21 Issue of LIfe & Legends
You can read the poems here.