By Adam Walsh
sticks rubbery thin
the kind my mother called a switch
broke skin on her legs
since father caught her in mud
with white church shoes
after she wouldn t say much
left the chickens in grass
threw stones at ducks
rocks cracked greenmallardheads
feathers red metallic and
the wheat fell down
three birds lay in reeds
two float in pondwater
mother pushes their eyes deep
ruptured black beads bleedout
onto beaks
it ll be fine she says
the black lab next door
will find a place for them
Copyright 2014 Walsh