Arsenic Lobster poetry journal
Issue Fifteen
Winter 2007
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Still-Life of Cornfield with Canada Geese
Laura Hirneisen

Green
not dead where corn
should be out the window,
color you might breathe,
pigments spit like bird bones,
too hollow, no meat.

Hill
quilted grass patched,
fleshed fingers like silk,
bare heads without hair;
brown a furred mantle
you wear on shoulders.

Distant trees
these might be bodies,
tall men with top hats,
stiff spines of bark
red red turning.

Field
flat undulates ribbons,
rows shorn, ragged tips
tanned in increments
subtle sometimes gold,
sun hiccups light.

Geese
silhouettes, backwards letters,
write them home again,
winterís shed feathers,
plucked wings behind.

Road
black, four lines,
white yellow yellow white,
flattened shrew carcass,
one leaf belly up.

About Laura Hirneisen

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