Clyde Kessler, poet and naturalist, lives in Radford, VA with his wife Kendall and their son Alan. Several years ago they added an art studio to their home and named it Towhee Hill. His latest book of poems, Fiddling at Midnight’s Farmhouse (Cedar Creek Publishing), was illustrated by his wife, Kendall Kessler.


We slant the radar so the blips
crawl down a crater rim like ants
chewing through sunlight. We nod
at the screen because it always fools
Crane and Dahlia who sneak home
through the airlock, saying they kissed
an alien machine, the kind that orbits
from underground. Their story rides
the silence of our cave because their hands
are broken again and their eyes are covered
like our eyes, with thin, wrinkled metals
reading everything. The entrance trough
is full of sprouting wheat. We forget
where the animals are. We forget
why Dahlia and Crane feed our ghosts,
so we begin retrofitting their images
across our skin.

Leave a Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s