Nothing sturdy. Windsock beside the pole barn just waiting
for a breeze. Mud daubers whispering below the roof eaves.
The whitewashed, weathered tongue-and-groove boards could give any day.
Chancy just tapping the front door jamb, farmhouse that fragile—
nothing sturdy. Windsock beside the pole barn. Just waiting
for some farmboy to chuck a rock, send it crumbling into
the heaps of deposit bottles, Depression and Wheaton
glass in the cellar. The last Station of the Cross: the dust-
mark from an up-turned horseshoe that once hung on the lintel.
Nothing sturdy. Windsock beside the pole barn. Just waiting.
Mark Jay Brewin, Jr., won the 2012 Agha Shahid Ali Prize in Poetry of the University of Utah Press for his first book manuscript, Scrap Iron. His poems have been published or are forthcoming in Beloit Poetry Journal, Antioch Review, Virginia Quarterly Review, The Hollins Critic, Copper Nickel, Southern Humanities Review, Poet Lore, North American Review, Greensboro Review, Prairie Schooner, and elsewhere. He is a graduate of the MFA program of Southern Illinois University-Carbondale. You can read more of his work at his website: https://markjaybrewinjr.com