fairfield poet

january

bluegrass, old church. brown grass, patches of snow. open ground, polished casket. some wore suits. i wore jeans. he wore jeans. one funeral. many funerals. his house, measured for renovation. my house, sold. six acres, weeds and pine trees. my dog's old bones.

katelyn

leaves, red and gold. pale sunshine. late afternoon. was she special? maybe not. but at fourteen, strawberry blonde was my entire palette.