Today's poem is by Sandra Simonds
Immense Fields of Work
Waking up to the gray farm redoubles your doubts.
All fall down. "Tucker?"
A row of cantaloupes in the garden freaking you out
like rippled faces where narcissus French kisses
the infested pond. They dreamed and they dreamed
and they dreamed of out west, antelope, log cabins,
but rats scratched their way through the arteries
of their lives. "I can sing really well," I told Tucker.
"Fucker!" he said when he stubbed his toe on
my guitar. It was a warm day and the next
day was warmer. Each cold storm had, at its
center, a hollow fruit. Then I opened the window, saw
a stranger smashing the cantaloupes with that guitar.
Seeds everywhere seeds. Six strings.
Copyright © 2014 Sandra Simonds All rights reserved
from The Sonnets
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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