yard work

boots, pulled
up high, rake in
her hand,
curled cold
around
the handle,
the shovel nearby.
a cold sun
rising
along the slant
of river
and hill.
the dog sniffing
at the edge
of a broken
fence where the deer
jumped in,
it's a long
day in the yard.
her flannel
shirt, sticking wet
against
her pale skin.
her life
slipping,
slipping as she digs
her boots
into
the ground,
bracing against
the rake.
the quiet of trees,
of birds.
a harsh blue
slash of river
showing itself between
the leafless
trees.