Sunlight feeds the forest. A buck stamps,
bobs his antlered head & snorts. I solidify
like gelatin made from his hooves. Ten years
have gone since my tongue last pushed meat
against my teeth, yet this is how I end? &
a hawk lay beside the road: wings limp, neck
turned jagged while carrion birds peck past
bent feathers. News reports nothing left of
the farmer who stepped before hungry hogs,
bucket full of feed ignored as he went down.
In the kitchen my daughter howls & shakes
as I mix cereal with peas. She is all
mouth & no heart. In a bed two hours away
my maker’s sparrow bones dissolve to sand.

Megan Neville is based in Cleveland, Ohio, where she divides most of her time between teaching and writing. She is the author of the chapbook Rust Belt Love Song (Game Over Books, 2019). Her work has been published by or is forthcoming in Noble/Gas Qtrly, English Journal, Belt Magazine, Into the Void, and many others. Keep up with her on Twitter @MegNev.