I used to walk into yards:
On treed bluffs above the Mississippi in Missouri,
On grassy prairies above the Mississippi in Illinois,
In soaked rice fields, levee-protected, near the Mississippi in Arkansas,
On beet-planted plains bordering the Red in North Dakota.
“Some water, please?”
“Sure, help yourself.”
Not as certain, not as confident now:
The loaded rifles, shotguns, pistols.
The brown pit bulls on rusted chains.
Eugene “Gene” Novogrodsky mid-April 2013