Poem 366 ± June 4, 2016

Donald Illich
Farm

i am the farm chickens
pigs cows goats horses
i am the pond filled
with fish the barn covered
in hay the tractor gnawing
grass i am the clear sky
mirrored in puddles i am
the farmer dressed in denim
i am his straw hat shielding
sun i am his overalls keeping
up his pants i am the boy
playing with sticks i am
the wife frying eggs i am
the gravestone at the edge
of the property i am the ghost
that moans at night i am
the stars that suddenly appear
i am the light that is life
i am the dark that hides it
i am growing inside her
i am quaking in him i am
the hospital i am the bed
i am the kid visiting the stone
i am the words he says
i am the way he bends down

 

Donald IllichDonald Illich is the author of Rocket Children (2012) and The Art of Dissolving (Finishing Line Press, 2016). His work has appeared in Iowa Review, LIT, Nimrod, Passages North, Rattle, and Sixth Finch, among many other journals. He lives in Rockville, Md.

This poem is not previously published.