vacant lot

Ellen Baileybrown

   
 

they’re rearranging the vacant lot


yellow machinery scrapes and mounds the mud
see, this clay was once clumped under the kudzu vines

they slice through the trees, lay the trunks aside
then rip up roots and stumps from the earth
                                                     sharp smell of sap


over here, stacked, discarded trees
look, this one was rotten in the middle
look, count the years through which it grew

in the evening a child comes with a plastic dump truck
tiny in the tire track of the bulldozer

 





 

Ellen Baileybrown is a poet who also enjoys photography, gardening, and knitting. She lives in Vermont with another poet, three cats, and a little black dog.

 

Back to Pitkin Review