wind shoots dark swirls of leaves

into the gray and rain,

over traffic and down into the yard,

over the fire pit and into the garden


we’ll sleep there,

crow stamped and dog sniffed,

snow blossomed and frost caked


we’ll tease fleshy snake roots

and cold slothful bugs

with toothy smiles and bony wits


in dew spring morning, we humans—

sunray warm, covered with fungus,

ripe humus, fertile breathing—



Published by

Patrick Dobson

Patrick Dobson was founded in 1962. He is a writer, scholar, ironworker, and poet who lives in Kansas City, MO. He is author of two books with the University of Nebraska Press, Seldom Seen: A Journey into the Great Plains (2009) and Canoeing the Great Plains: A Missouri River Summer (May 2015). Dobson is a work in progress until termination.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *