← v15n1, Spring 2016
Poetry · Volume 15, Number 1

Acre

You should know better than to rent that acre

alongside the river to those boys you know

will plant it in corn only to cut it right before

hunting season so that the whole week it’s lying there:

stalks and sweet ears and tassels by the water the deer

already have made slick paths to, the field

drawing them bolder and bolder to it as something

natural, a given. But hasn’t Claude placed a rabbit trap

long and narrow in a similar fashion? True.

The difference is when you’ve proved you can lead

something with a .22 and kill it without a thought.

That’s how you earn the trap, when you can foretell

that kind of zag and not sit lazy up in a tree

looking down on that one fertile field you still think you have rights to.