Fresh cut wound across the morning sky--
Late for work, stopping to make it later--
Count the highway stripes to the next exit
as sparrows flush one maple to another
above the stench of asphalt.
Crows begin again from ropes
thrown like hummingbird vine tendrils.
Across the field harvested corn lies spilled,
kernels ringing against the crisp grass.
A busted tire, unpredictable in the field--
The field ready for the trouble of winter rain--
The rain steady for what comes next.
Sam Calhoun is the author of five chapbooks. His work can be found in Cosmic Daffodils, Eratos, and Cold Moon Journal. He lives with his wife in Elkmont, AL. Follow him on Instagram or X @weatherman_sam, or his website, www.weathermansam.com