AT THE END OF THE ARGUMENT
by Kelly Madigan Erlandson
We drive out west of town
and you note liking the places
where birds are, and I soften,
begin to think of other things you like:
tart tree cherries
little towns where guys know your dad
the smell of old books cracked open
my small hands.
I untie the rusted wire
that traps the graveyard gate, and we bend
under the green roof of branches,
crickets spreading out before us at each step.
We wander the ruins of markers
crowded with spent iris.
You romance about our remains
bordering each other on a hill
that will be shouldered by cornfields
and riddled with black crickets,
loud and thick every August nightfall.
Tonight I'll press against you as you sleep,
attending to each warm breath;
the quiet pause between them,
the longest pause, ahead.
"At the End of the Argument" appeared previously in Plains Song Review. Reprinted by permission of the poet. Kelly Madigan Erlandson's work has recently appeared or is forthcoming in Crazyhorse, The Massachusetts Review, Talking River Review, CALYX and Puerto del Sol. Her manuscript "Born in the House of Love" won the Main-Traveled Roads Chapbook Award in 2004.
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