Looking out the kitchen window, I
run my eye over the remoteness of
the back yard & take an inventory
of what remains the same…
The way the watering can never moves
from its station beneath the crabapple
tree, or the wheelbarrow turned on
its side, where our red & brown chickens
scratch inside its bunker full of last
fall’s leaves. Tell me, who comes
to judge this yard gone numb? What
motivation would change this?
I’m at a loss in the world that has
made me heavy as a stone marker.
Nothing is sacred, not even this.
M. J. Iuppa’s third full-length poetry collection Small Worlds Floating was published by Cherry Grove Collections in July 2016. For the past 28 years, she has lived on a small farm near the shores of Lake Ontario.