White trunks of birches flash
in the quick sun and shadow woods.
At the top of a rise, a lightning-split
elm and fallen fence. Behind,
an overgrown lane of ancient maples,
lopsided and burly, leaves stained
with autumn. Beyond, a barn collapsed
in a spiral of timbers and twisted roof.
A faded farmhouse stares ahead,
dead-windowed and empty.
In the yard a homemade hay wagon,
two flat tires.
All around the random decay.
The crawling edge of woods.
Below the house, a gentle sloping
orchard. Gnarled trunks standing
where a farmer’s hands first set them,
still living and bearing fruit.
Runty apples reddening for
no harvest.
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Fredric Hildebrand is a retired physician living in Neenah, WI. He is the author of two poetry chapbooks, Northern Portrait (Kelsay Books, 2020), and A Glint of Light (Finishing Line Press, 2020). His recent poetry has appeared in The MacGuffin and Third Wednesday.
