Post Row

sometimes I forget that I am a woman.

morning sun returns to the valley

river between thin and silver

a thread stitching forest to range

the curves of oak-dotted hills

swell to embrace the light

girdled by white fence posts

twisted with barbed wire

fields of green and brown and green

crop circles forced into fertility

long pipes stretching out

into rusted standing water

and then I remember.

~Leah Jay   June 24 2022