Fragments of Ourselves
Hot Tennessee nights
A breeze that carries the scent of humid, wet earth
barn rust, pungent trees in bloom, burn piles,
Tar and freshly fallen cedars from an exiting storm
In the cattle fields
Just over the fence line
Tin bells ring in chaotic harmony
Trotting to water
Sometimes the diabetic horse
Stands motionless in a hard rain
Staring at a void
And when the cicadas crank up
Their clandestine hum
A distant dog will bark incessantly
As coyote send their young as bait
I am not accustomed to the night
When the loons forget their vows of silence
No chatter, no cars, no doppler sirens
We cater ourselves to growth at all costs
And fight the good fight each morning
We call it a draw in the evening
We share a glass of wine before bed
How many fragments of ourselves
Litter a long dirt road?
That bends and forks endlessly?
A network of missed opportunities
A network of what ifs?
A Collection of Poems
Corey Michael Hines is a Brooklyn-based writer and poet with roots spread across the American South. He received his BFA in Writing from the Savannah College of Art and Design in 2014 and has been featured in Volume Poetry, Artemis, le NAVIGATEUR, and Oxford American’s Eyes on the South.
1–2 minutes
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