On Entering the Shed

— Casey FitzSimons

Beyond the reach of window light,
dim corners give off pewter glints
of tack and trim, barrel rims, wadded
harrow chain. Things reveal themselves

reluctantly, upon my staring. The image
of the tractor moving past outside
comes through the window panes. I contemplate
how its diminutive reflection came

to be upside-down in the jar of nails, heading
the other way, how it creeps an inch
along the shaft of a drywall nail, why
the wheat hangs waving

under the screw-on lid. Outdoors
the sky is gray. Inside, a pallid overcast
puddles in the jar’s glassy bottom
like a streak of mother’s milk.

2 thoughts on “On Entering the Shed

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