201 Hazel Valley Ranch
RACHAEL ROSS
Hands caked with dirt, the cracks
in her fingers quench moisture
after a long morning planting the
sage & mint. The trees leak
light through their branches &
decorate the acreage with golden
puddles of sun. The ivy has climbed
the walls of their house. The hose has
rusted and the patio chairs have lost their pillows.
Her hands shake as she picks up paint
chips that have fallen from the back
of the house. Squirrels chase on the
fading roof. The packing boxes litter
the floor of her living room.
She stares out into the yard that raised her
children and hugs her old dogs deep
in their homey graves. She sees the
eastern white pines who have been her friends.
The barn that took her 23 days to finish
painting a deep red. She wonders if the
trees will groan when she’s gone.
RACHAEL ROSS
Hands caked with dirt, the cracks
in her fingers quench moisture
after a long morning planting the
sage & mint. The trees leak
light through their branches &
decorate the acreage with golden
puddles of sun. The ivy has climbed
the walls of their house. The hose has
rusted and the patio chairs have lost their pillows.
Her hands shake as she picks up paint
chips that have fallen from the back
of the house. Squirrels chase on the
fading roof. The packing boxes litter
the floor of her living room.
She stares out into the yard that raised her
children and hugs her old dogs deep
in their homey graves. She sees the
eastern white pines who have been her friends.
The barn that took her 23 days to finish
painting a deep red. She wonders if the
trees will groan when she’s gone.