Yard Art
Margo Davis
Remember? We stumbled into someone’s
rustic backyard where light needled straight seams into
fallen leaves. Each brittle shape, stitched into
place in sepia. Rough-hewn mysterious shapes
staring back through pinprick holes.
Remember how each metal object nested in shavings?
When we inched forward, I saw an engine block
resting on the hood of an abandoned car
and alongside it, the battery, corroded.
The powdery dust, remember? How it flaked what had
once propelled its owner everywhere. Disintegration—
a rusty heap, a monkey wrench, WD-40.
About the Author
Margo Davis poetry has appeared in Synkroniciti and equinox, as well as Deep South, Arkansas Review, & Verse Daily. Four forthcoming poems are to appear in Southwestern American Lit. A series on Vivian Maier’s street photography is due quite soon in The Ekphrastic Review. Her new poetry collection, Uncoupling, is available on Amazon. Margo hovers in Houston, a packed bag beneath the bed.