Belonging (an excerpt)
April 2011
a pillow for my daughter
and a farm under each leg
to sup nightly on dreams of
fields in Quebec whose clean lines
are a well-practised penmanship.
sweat blond hay slicked back
for picture day, you know the cows
are happy, the cheese is rich
and there’s no rust in the buckets.
something to be said for
doing the same ol’ thing…