Cows
It’s like looking up from a novel
Again, and seeing the same tilled
Fields glide past the window, the same
Sorrow, the same wind, the same
Cows. Or else you’re alone in the
House and nothing is wrong but the
Familiar. Or your dream reminds you
Of what’s already happened, and it’s
Not like in the movies, where you have a
Chance to break the circuit. Besides, you’ve
Seen that movie a million times, so
Many that you can’t see it at all
Anymore, can’t smell your mother’s
Pot roast, her breath, your disappointment,
And when a hand comes to rest on your
Shoulder in the dark, you sigh in your
Sleep and barely notice the tilled fields,
The dreams, the cows.
Nancy Burke's work has appeared or will appear in such publications as Euphony, American Poetry Journal, Permafrost, Confrontation, Rhino, The Seattle Review, and Green Mountains Review, and was recently featured in After Hours. Her work has won a Gradiva award, an Illinois Arts Council Artist Fellowship, an Illinois Arts Council Literary Award, an EEW award, an International Merit Award from the Atlanta Review, and a Fish prize. She recently completed a novel, which she reports is now in the process of being rejected, and has written and published extensively in her field in academic journals such as Psychoanalytic Psychology.