Joseph Young


A glass jug sat on a lichened boulder, filling with rain. When water brimmed the lip, the stony bald suffered in the drought.

A pair of iron sheers lay on the hemlock floor. When pressed into the loam by the passing of a hoof, the golden leaves began to fall.

A fieldstone wall traversed the mountain spur. When broken by a clumsy bear, the frozen stream shifted in the thaw.  

A Model A rotted in the grassy hollow. When mice were birthed in the glovebox, the moon rolled over the western ridge.

A dooryard of periwinkle grew among the litter of leaves. When the blue flowers bloomed, a sick wren finished dying.

A lone wall leaned with the wind. When the stone chimney fell, lightning burnt the wasps’ nest. 

A button was wedged into the bark of a tree. When the crow took it home, the snow closed the fire roads.

* * *

Joseph Young has poems forthcoming in The Blue Moon Review. His prose has appeared in The Mississippi Review, Opium, Literary Potpourri, and Small Spiral Notebook.