To the Drone All Objects Are Beautiful

Especially the cattle, their shadows
black words against
the sage-green scrub. And the house
that looked so like an armory,
parapets and ramparts that now,
closer, you see are wooly
trees. You can hear
the ’copter’s flappy heart
beating ecstatic the egg
of atmosphere, see land
and mountains bent in the lens’s
milky pool. Two hills that could hide
a squadron make a soft saddle
under sky. A long trench dug
by the square tooth of a ’dozer
is filled, poor windowbox,
with weeds. Beside it a small dog
runs, raising a river of dust toward
a man standing with something
in his hands that turns out,
on closer pass, to be trowels
and packets of seeds. 

Amy Miller’s poetry collection The Trouble with New England Girls won the Louis Award from Concrete Wolf Press and will be published in 2018. Her writing appears in Gulf Coast, Willow Springs, and ZYZZYVA, and her latest chapbook is I Am on a River and Cannot Answer (BOAAT Press).