When it was January We used to fear ice storms We used to run out of gas To heat the cabin Now the sun blisters Chinks out of the logs It’s too hot to breathe And the wolf-dog’s fur Scabs off in clumps.
When it was April We used to fear rwisters We’d stock the basement With pickled fruit Now sleet sags down Blowing the power out As snow infests The wolf-dog’s cubs With bitter coughs
When it was July We’d hide in the shadow Of the front porch Waiting for the cabin To cool down Now run-offs from the mountain Ravage the herb garden Where the wolf-dog lies While its cubs scrounge for water
There are no reasons Any more except for What natives remember Of bedbug infestations And cubs scratching Lice from their bellies To please the rats They drag from beneath The cabin’s front porch
Notes from the Hills
ReplyDeleteWhen it was January
We used to fear ice storms
We used to run out of gas
To heat the cabin
Now the sun blisters
Chinks out of the logs
It’s too hot to breathe
And the wolf-dog’s fur
Scabs off in clumps.
When it was April
We used to fear rwisters
We’d stock the basement
With pickled fruit
Now sleet sags down
Blowing the power out
As snow infests
The wolf-dog’s cubs
With bitter coughs
When it was July
We’d hide in the shadow
Of the front porch
Waiting for the cabin
To cool down
Now run-offs from the mountain
Ravage the herb garden
Where the wolf-dog lies
While its cubs scrounge for water
There are no reasons
Any more except for
What natives remember
Of bedbug infestations
And cubs scratching
Lice from their bellies
To please the rats
They drag from beneath
The cabin’s front porch
[Disposable Poem September 18, 2010]
Dr. Mike