To Those Intent on Glory
That first autumn night with the windows open—
cool, like cream over blueberries,
crisp like sheets off the line—
when she reaches for you, deep in the night
and sleeping, the gentle warmth of her frail
hand on your shoulder, or arm, pressure
light like breath, for that moment,
others like it, you should die an old farmer,
forgotten but for that moment’s skin, echoing,
an arrow sharper than Nimrod’s, and more true.
This morning’s birds chatter,
coaxing the day through its purplepink birth,
cheering its orange head crowning
“It’s a boy! It’s a boy!”
then washing and dressing this little one,
laying him in our arms
before preening and folding their blue feathers
and nestling down to sleep.
K.C. HANSON grew up on a small farm near Webster, North Dakota, and spent six years in the Marine Corps before picking up poetry in college. He received his MFA from Minnesota State University Moorhead in 2005, and now teaches composition at Minnesota State Community and Technical College, also in Moorhead, where he lives with his wife and two Brittany Spaniels, Riley O’Riley and Allis Chalmers.