“…the dog barks to call
attention and they turn back toward the house that was
his great-grandfather’s, now his to rescue, and with it
the hundred acres he has chosen to be his life.
Already he has rebuilt the fences, keeps chickens,
breeds goats, plants a garden and a sweet potato field.
What might he be thinking as the storm breaks
into sticks of flame above him? His wife
hears weather news and stops the car
on a roadside, waiting out hard rain.”
Read the rest of the poem at The Birmingham Review