We are pushing sixty.
Like snails, when we bloom
out of ourselves to spy
the garden through our blindness
we are dancing slowly,
alert to the flaming
intentions of the stars.
Well, I like to think it.
Imagine it is April,
raw, slippery honks
like loose belts on an engine
that turns anyway,
echo from above
the two-lanes and the farms.
Geese stick out their slender
necks for everyone.
Header photograph © Matthew Yates.
Mark Jackley is the author of several poetry collections, most recently On the Edge of a Very Small Town, available free by emailing chineseplums@gmail.com. His poems have appeared in Sugar House Review, Fifth Wednesday, Natural Bridge, Timberline Review, and other journals. He lives in Purcellville, Virginia.
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