Scrap Gold
       

Then all was vineyard, all was grape
Kept a bone in the oven so the heat learned savor
The implosions have been slow and restful ever since

Clothesline is a sentence
Or snowbank

We spoke, as birds unsettled in the trees outside
We spoke, much as birds that unsettle
Yet do not lift, yet seem to move the trees

They built the cathedral with a battered door

Canoe forever on a car

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Copyright © 2016 Zach Savich All rights reserved
from Poetry Northwest
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission