Hobble Creek Review
| Sherry O'Keefe |
Grounded
Tell me I don’t reach
in the way that elm trees arch
for blue heated sky,
stretching with beggar limbs
for one more soak in yellowed light
before the moon hustles in
with the blackwash we call night.
Instead, tell me
you feel the stubborn way
I burrow beneath groomed grass
the same way elms seek water
in a neighbors yard,
reaching deep into musty ancient earth
to battle the northern front.
Tell me I don’t reach
in the way that elm trees arch
for blue heated sky,
stretching with beggar limbs
for one more soak in yellowed light
before the moon hustles in
with the blackwash we call night.
Instead, tell me
you feel the stubborn way
I burrow beneath groomed grass
the same way elms seek water
in a neighbors yard,
reaching deep into musty ancient earth
to battle the northern front.
Sherry O'Keefe is the mother of Will and Beth. She credits her Irish
Montana Pioneer heritage for much of her poetry. While her short story
work has made the top list in Glimmer Train, her poetry débuts here and in
Tipton Poetry Journal.
Montana Pioneer heritage for much of her poetry. While her short story
work has made the top list in Glimmer Train, her poetry débuts here and in
Tipton Poetry Journal.
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