Blue Yodel of the Quick and the Dead

At a time when we were sleeping
A boat drifts down the slope
Into the pond
It isn't going anywhere this is
How bluebirds die
A porch swing banging the rose bush
In a bad wind
Like a minnow net the terrapins
Stealing strawberries
Off the vine
A tornado passes over
Like an angel with a can
Of worms and then a mirror
And then a blue cock
Walking a sawhorse
Pass over the graves
A light rain falling
Up the road some children fighting
With weeds demanding satisfaction
They might be brothers
Or sisters
They're bowing
Pulling up the queen's lace
They're bending down
To the lightning it's a dream
Until a long thin weed
Opens up the boy's eye
The birds are there
Singing on the power line
The fence no one will claim
The boy lies in the dust his sister
Falls down naturally
Holding her welted thighs great storms
Coming without rain
Leaving days for nights gone and unknown
The years
Go by someone passing a drawer
With a glass eye
One winter she goes out to the barn
Her brother is fast asleep
The wind blows open the doors
But not her candle
There's an old cabinet she stares at

© Ginny Stanford