Suspended Falling

by Jessica Doble

three feet of dusted sunlight between well and trimthe old joke—parents’ basement transparent
soybeans stalked, awkwardsagging pods
a pandemic childhood bedrooms encase past livedthe fit it’s tight
domestic shorthair grooming dappled sill
still scenting,stink bugs and exploration
after harvestbarrenstill with one—heterodomesticity
furrowed fieldsunimpeded wind winds
ruffles crows’ feet squinting gleaning bone-picked fieldspromises

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Featured in our September 2021 issue, "Nostalgia"

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