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.