A Walk One Evening

Bare feet streak bare ground

Birds’ tracks lace the dust

Skin prickles as the air chills

And coy yowls welcome nightfall

Barn fans hum in my ears

Tractor planting in the south field

Grumbles as it goes

Only an hour or two left of daylight

While sunrays paint cloud wisps

Flares of gold and orange

Mirror mild flames burning

Silver thatch’s brilliance

Path ends as daylight fades

I turn back home again

Realizing I made the right choice

Farmland instead of the City

I Saw One Morning

I saw one morning

A most extraordinary sight:

My neighbor’s crabapple tree

Had bloomed a single mirror.

It peeked

From among the limbs

Covered in rosy blossoms

And buds.

It winked at me,

The sunlight blinking off

Its pearly surface, and I was sure

That it beckoned.

Softly, I approached,

Fascinated by the strange fruit.

Would it crack

If plucked from its branch?

It did not.

Although, no matter how

Hard I tugged and twisted,

The mirror would not budge

But remained transfixed.

How peculiar, thought I,

And curiosity overcame me.

Slowly drawing my knife,

I prepared to release it

From the tree’s possession.

Pink and pearl together

Shuddered horribly,

And I knew that neither

Would ever be mine.