Beartrap Meadow
by Nile Coy
Driven like rats by the heat to higher, cooler ground
meditating on soft meadow grass, listening for banjo music
over the sounds of my heartbeat, my breathing,
my fingers rolling over supple leather drumhead,
and when the clouds stop dancing for me,
and open up to spill their burden onto the meadow floor,
the smell of rain and the sound of hailstones
striking against dirt makes me feel
as if the sky was drumming back to me,
like my message was received,
but the only answer worth sending
was a soggy hammock
and a few precious moments of quiet bliss
standing in the rain with my lover.
