- Inspecting a Patch of Grass in the Backyard, I Delight in My Senses, Get Distracted by Thought, Then Enjoy My Senses Again, and: Lepus
INSPECTING A PATCH OF GRASS IN THE BACKYARD, I DELIGHT IN MY SENSES, GET DISTRACTED BY THOUGHT, THEN ENJOY MY SENSES AGAIN
bright coupling ofair and bird
song drowned in the drone of jet
engines Doppler offover red petals
paling against fence boards
where the heardassemblage confounds
the word camellia is
picked in what passesfor attention
to detail but how might the smallest
shard readread outside [End Page 132]
our grammar of default?
to question suchthinking I hold still
the smell of dog in my hand
the near instanceof this where
senses consult the will
which wills while aparta part of
the will fights the willing I
outside myselfan ant takes a stand
on the edge of a fact called clover [End Page 133]
LEPUS
I thought I saw through the ear of a hare, where it sat in the morning sun, light-glow behind the dilated vessels there, so nearthe warmth of the ambient air, yet below
the heart’s heat at the hare’s core— and what’s more, I thought I could hear the blood rush down, into its long limbs abeyant, aware as the nerve current sang in its flesh.
And I smelled sagemerge with stone, fresh earth-breath after pre-dawn rain, the wet nearly gone as the sun rose; and the hare, unmoving forth in its massive stillness, leapt, fierce and alone with its earlight, through me. [End Page 134]
Joshua McKinney is the author of three books of poetry. His work has appeared in Boulevard, Denver Quarterly, Kenyon Review, New American Writing, Poetry International, Volt, and many other journals. He is a member of the California Lichen Society.