It’s Poetry Friday!!!

Poetry Friday is funny for me, because I feel like I jump back and forth between my identities, as a poet for adults and an author for children. I love that one week I’ll put up some lovely doggerel, and the next week I’ll have a poem like this one…  but it doesn’t really matter.

More people reading+ more different kinds of poems = a big win!

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Radio, Radio

By Ben Doller

(who used to be called Ben Doyle back in the day)

In the middle of every field,

obscured from the side by grass

or cornhusks, is a clearing where

she works burying swans alive

into the black earth. She only

buries their bodies, their wings.

She packs the dirt tight around

their noodle necks & they shake

like long eyelashes in a hurricane.

She makes me feed them by hand

twice a day for one full year: grain,

bits of chopped fish. Then she

takes me to the tin toolshed.

Again she shows me the world

inside her silver transistor radio.

She hands me the scythe.

Thanks to Becky for the Roundup!

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