Patterns

By Arianna Delmastro

The fields sprawled
One, then another,
Over the land–
The land made of bones pressed together
And grass that lies to catch unsuspecting feet.
We passed herds of cattle
One, then another,
That belong to farmers whose names are known
To everyone but me.
I’ve never seen so much sky unfurled above me.
We passed down unfamiliar roads
One, then another,
And I found myself unable to read.
Swallows built nests above our heads;
Gently chirring, then less gently, they dove and swooned
One, then another,
Into the rafters.
The silver sun sees me as another speck stippling the plain;
Sees me walk, stumble, right myself–
Sees me to bed
And then up again in the morning,
Hears how my heart beats like every other:
One, then another.