Valley Box

Maeve Nolan

 
 
 

it’s me in                    the thick yard


ducking around with               the graves


it’s me stone                   cold in the park


the hawk                     blotted


his furry cheek                 against mine


I swiveled both                 wide wrists


towards him                   over several hills

 
 

 
 

 

the damp things are mine

 

and the slick animal 

 

       in the weeds        also is 

 

the            loud guy 

 

screaming is me 

 

he is                  mowing what lawn

 

he has                 like him 

 

I hold                 the racket of my engine 

 

and its blooming       pull cord 

 

 
 

screaming                    like a girl through the houses



on the bluff                   I stalk around



those in a circle                I have forgotten



the cheek’s talents



forever                     I rest against



a fence                     and spit



into                      the grass



me, me, me                    I think



the handy                    light comes



up                        the cliff

 
 
 

Maeve Nolan lives in New York.