Free
Verse
Driving
Lessons
Behind the wheel
of her shiny1936 Chevrolet,
Grandmother plowed headlong into the woodpile,
handed the keys to her son and rode shotgun
for the next thirty years, her eyes flashing fire
when her nephew joked about dodging splinters
zinging across the yard like buckshot.
It took Mother forty years to muster the courage
to get behind the wheel. She raced about the barnlot,
cows hiding behind haystacks. Even pigeons
took wing when they heard the engine roar.
Daughter sideswiped the neighbor’s mailbox,
the post a zigzag of twisted metal.
Granddaughter charged through the back
of the garage, an entrance at either end.
Armed with hindsight or perhaps gifted
with foresight, I hired a driving coach,
drove uneventfully after six easy lessons.
Brief
Encounter
she hops
into the road
I know her at once
a ruffed grouse
know better
the thumping in the forest
the clattering call
she flees from the car
purple grasses
close her in
Strange
Rain
Skies lower,
thunder booms,
lightning strikes the fence
where he stands, foot propped
on a wire, calling pigs to supper.
The bucket resting on his knee
rockets up, turns a flip in the air,
and yellow corn showers the earth.
