Evening on Earth
It is evening the mother is taking
Down the drying
A little fat on her pale arms
The son whose hair is so long
The hired hand tells him watch
He doesn’t get it baled up with the hay
Is looking for mushrooms in cow pies
The daughter is riding bareback
Up through the waterway
But all the horse wants is to eat
The tender clover
The father sitting on the porch
Wielding a fly swatter
The blue mesh gummy with kills
Figures his weird son is looking for
Arrowheads
When he knows damn well
No one’s found one in years