Snow in the Coulee

Four more inches of snow
Buried the coulee last night
And us living in a cardboard box
In a gully by the dam site
Where the pipefitter’s pet fox
Gets more human kindness
Than the dirty little kids who steal
Condensed milk from the fat grocer
While the old lady makes a couple bucks
On the old mattress we brought from that
Faraway farm, keeping the ones who have work
Sated behind the blanket hanging
Four more inches of snow in the coulee
God help us if we ever leave this place.

Author: Duncan MacNae

Exiled Gael, scion of the Dust Bowl, dweller within Divine Grace, admirer of mountains, I have made my peace with trout and the starlings. Looking for a river and healing trees. duncanmacduncan5@gmail.com View all posts by Duncan MacNae