We Tempt Our Luck

The title poem from my new chapbook,  We Tempt Our Luck:

We Tempt Our Luck

Where we walk

there’s sun over everything:

a field of purple vetch,

yarrow, the peppery smell

of July.  Still heat, still

glinting light, still green

leaves–jagged, feathery–

but the day’s slipped

a little south now;

beneath all, a whisper

of cool.

We know what will come.

The fields lie mowed, the barley

raked in gray-green rows

for the baler.  The next field’s

plowed for seeding.  The mushroom

backs of cranes move

like shadows, dinosaur

necks stretch down

for bits of grain, insects.

A boy sits in the road

beside them, writing, dreaming

wanting his luck to stay.

To order contact Astounding Beauty Ruffian Press, Stuart, VA


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