Suspended Falling

by Jessica Doble

three feet of dusted sunlight

between

well

and trim

the old joke—parents’ basement

transparent

soybeans stalked,

awkward

sagging pods

a pandemic

childhood

bedrooms

encase

past

lived

the fit it’s tight

domestic shorthair

grooming

dappled

sill

still

scenting,

stink

bugs and exploration

after harvest

barren

still with one—heterodomesticity

furrowed fields

unimpeded

wind winds

ruffles crows’ feet

squinting

gleaning

bone-picked fields

promises