dead snag along the
edge of the creek
unfolds like a parasol opening,
squawks effort, pulls
gangly
legs
that
trail
like
reeds
behind him, white lime of feces
streak onto water like an afterthought,
wide wings mask the road of sky
between the trees, a deep whoosh
so thick with flapping
you have to suck
at your breath,
cramp
your
diaphragm,
catch and swallow
that air before
it curls away
into the eddies
of his leaving.
—
Roy Beckemeyer’s poems have appeared in The Midwest Quarterly, The North Dakota Review, Coal City Review, and I-70 Review. He was a 2016 Pushcart nominee, and his collection of poems, “Music I Once Could Dance To” (Coal City Review and Press, 2014), was selected as a 2015 Kansas Notable Book.
The Zingara Project 