Febrile, it is a wraith
pecking like a pair of doves,
creaky as the lone
Antarctic ice sheet,
3 P.M. sun slanted down
dog-tired time.
Steadfast, I trundle
over the chipped concrete walk
beneath a cottonwood’s yellow
leaves held by the bright
light. Smart children rush
through the school gate.
My smile says its echoes
are curveballs thrown
by the real.
Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 16, Issue 4.
Michael G. Smith is a chemist. No Small Things, a book of poetry, will be published in the summer of 2014 (Tres Chicas Press, Santa Fe, NM). Ancient Fir, Climbing, his poem published in this issue of Cider Press Review, was written while he was a writing resident of the Spring Creek Project (Oregon State University) at the HJ Andrews Experimental Forest.
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