Sunday, October 4, 2015

When The Rooster Crows

photo: marilyn fleming

When The Rooster Crows
by Marilyn Fleming
I linger bedside—
the cry of a killdeer
on my tongue

birds rustle
at the water’s edge
his teeth in a jar

the milk house dark
—flash of a cat

his last words  
‘there’s nothing left of me
—sell the farm’

fallowed land
from the mouth of a cave
his rattled breath

big brown hands
of cold dry clay—
a smell of twigs

raw earth shivers
threads the seed—claims him
—winter wheat

when the rooster crows
no one will remember
his face—his name

who will feed the cat
the old farmhouse stands alone
–on the river flows

~ first published in the An Ariel Anthology 2014