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Poem
by Michelle Taransky


Barn Burning

If I’d frown. Hide
from. The dog
wood stains. If wide
farm I’d place, hold
her dog. Would fawn
if trees. If older. Wood

rings. Like a share
cropped I’d wash
old skin. Scrape
again, do fold
down the corner. Silos
are piles raking up

the scattered dew
covered leaves. If
the shades are already drawn,
find the barn. Over
turned. Broken
into sap, bark and shake.

Michelle Taransky is Programs Coordinator for The Poetry Center of Chicago. Her poems can be found in DIAGRAM, can we have our ball back? and on Dan Waber's Altered Books Project.