step gingerly through puffs
of long yellow weed this scattered field
hides its intentions
its outline indistinct
the rise and fall of its terrain
like a gravity well bent
by passing bodies
I search for serpents
the doe, the web, passage
through this unmapped territory
impossible without considering the audience
which lurks pressed against the wet red clay
the skittering of a dove
from out of the bramble
hard flapping that divides the sky
and sends me two steps back
my heart mimics its frantic parting
I pause there, all my body listens
delicate fingers of the softest breeze
play through the wild rye
I hear my path forward uncertainly
trusting the rhythm to guide me
Corbett Buchly’s poetry has appeared in more than 30 journals, including, The RavensPerch, SLAB, Plainsongs, Barrow Street, and Rio Grande Review. He is an alumnus of Texas Christian University and the professional writing program at the University of Southern California. He lives in Northeast Texas. Find him online at Buchly.com
