where the rabbit
runs deep and soft
the trail between
the tall grass winds
the crow sits on a
bare branch
and the hound bays
to the stiff wind
only in the
sweatiness of summer
does the sky drip
its humidity
awkward, young deer
pick at leaves
in the oak trees
lining my uncle’s field
while their mothers
twitch their tails
soaking up the sun
as it beats down
the crow flies away
to the scent of carrion
on the highway, some
distance away
where people are
driving like maniacs
on their way to work
for the day
