Joseph Geskey

I didn’t recognize you until you bloomed—

one year of life, when for a few months

you were a gold field beside an asphalt road,

where a groomsman relieved himself

before tossing a beer can in front of you

as a bridal party waited to take pictures

in front of a covered bridge. Like the wedding

photos, there is no evidence you ever existed,

put to death by pesticide and mowing,

in favor of cattle and sheep that would die

of liver toxicity because they couldn’t refuse you.

Years later, through your stubbornness,

the bank of seeds you left after your death

is captured in bloom in the foreground

of the bleached-red, warped bridge.

The vows spoken that day, long broken

and recycled like trite clichés—I am at the age

where I look forward to hearing stories

about how someone near death had a good day.

Bio

Joseph Geskey lives outside Columbus, Ohio. His second book of poetry, Vigil, is forthcoming from Broken Tribe Press. Individual poems have appeared in Verse Daily, Tar River Poetry, JAMA, The Dodge, and Poetry East, among many others. Please visit josephgeskey.com for further information.