- In Plain Sight
Ancient of days, old eskered land, rivered and laked, strewn With stone and seeded with hemlock, hickory, oak,
Alder with an appetite for meadow, meadow with a hunger For rain, rain with a passion for thunder, fire, whatever comes next,
I'm getting on and what I know wouldn't fill an acorn cap, Doesn't grant me the warrant to search beyond the plain-sight details—
Slug, turtle, snake in the grass, fox among the sea-oats, Cottages, overturned kayaks, the not-yet-blooming lupine,
And a skunk body undone, its tail glued to the lawn, Its black eyes alive with ants, its pelt torn clean through.
Judge, panel of judges, are you listening?
Jennifer Atkinson is the author of two books of poems, The Dogwood Tree and The Drowned City. She teaches creative writing at George Mason University.