Nature's Gold

Smoke polkas above the pines
the night I burn my novel.
In fire, you bake your old man’s heart,
a blackened raisin. I bury a brother.
You raise a daughter from the dead.

Our losses spread out nature’s gold
as bountiful as needles beneath
Scotch pines lining our drive.
What we can’t say
chisels ginger cracks
into the harvest moon.
— Dave Malone, from View from the North Ten

All poems, art, and photos are public domain, creative commons, or used by permission of author or publisher. Photo by Jenny Downing, via Flickr.
Artist Debbie Young

Art by Debbie Young

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