Before We Reached The Sea

An undershirt on a reaped corn stalk;
a wet tie stained with smoke;
water puddling in road scars;
the field, a former homestead;
the smell of burnt oil and skin fuse in the air
and soil, rising even after the lavender blooms.

First published in Right Hand Pointing.

Published by Brendan McEntee

Poet and critic living in New York near Long Island Sound.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: