by Larry D. Thacker
Crop Circles, #4
Investigate the site. Look
more closely within the stalk.
Find the bone structure
within the hollowed wheat
very seldom considered.
It bends like a limb, winded,
crooked at the elbow in degrees
reaching for soft moonlight
across the darkless skyfield.
The circle is inconsequential.
What we’ll find is a laying
of relaxed arms, one
over another, then another.
She didn’t wake up that morning
planning to fall down the stairs,
break her ankle, be in a hard cast
who knows how long on crutches,
have two surgeries, pins in bones,
deal with a supervisor threatening
to lay her off, get knocked down
to part-time, her son still needing
clothes for new school year, water,
light bill, and mortgage come due
all at once, and have a doctor hand
over a hundred painkillers as a cure.
Eroding to Sleep
The body hints of flagging
on the drift, sleep is a threatened storm,
hinted of heat bursts over the black water
too far out to know, with waves
tiding in sweeps to find floating things,
separate them into parts on an eddy’s schedule
only it knows, an eventual wet salted
clunk and slosh of parted bone,
softened sinew, blanketed of thunder now,
the working of things making themselves known,
water warmth working up the marshes,
red-fingered blood deltas search something
out, once inland needing out of land,
the want of washing up down on beaches
off where they’ve been dredging a mile out
to save the eroding bodies of shorelines.
Larry D. Thacker’s poetry can be found in more than ninety publications including The Still Journal, Poetry South, Mad River Review, The Southern Poetry Anthology, Mannequin Haus, Ghost City Press, Jazz Cigarette, and Appalachian Heritage. His books include Mountain Mysteries: The Mystic Traditions of Appalachia and the poetry books, Voice Hunting and Memory Train, as well as the forthcoming, Drifting in Awe. He’s presently working on his MFA in both poetry and fiction. Visit his website at: www.larrydthacker.com