The Wire Fence Was Bent Where a Deer Jumped Over
Neighbor, your mower
cast dust over the edge
where the field meets
the field, toy-sized ring-
necked snakes halved
and flattened by blades
among blades, and now
our things are mingled.
What do you covet
that is mine? Chigger-
riddled passion
blooms, a glint
of beetles loitering
under their anther eaves,
a car idling in a sealed
garage, arranging
the inevitable fog
into a fog that will arrive
without pain? Neighbor,
if your wishes require
me to act, I will act
according to your wishes.
I am ready, every day
as I pass, to cast over
a glance and make sure
all is still still, to drag you
out—or leave you there—
in your designated air.
Source: Poetry (September 2019)