Redeployment
The last hour
comes down
to a fruitless
search for an olive
green sock,
baby Joshua screeching
each time one of them
sets him down,
the tv’s irrelevant
weather forecast,
burnt meatloaf,
and the smell of
heated metal
and bitter smoke,
once the water
steaming the potatoes
has simmered
away.
Robert Bires writes in Chattanooga, Tennessee. He and his wife, a Kentucky native, married in Lisman, Kentucky in a small church they cleaned themselves the night before the wedding. He has published poems in a variety of journals including Pennsylvania Review, Closed Eye Open, Dissident Voices, The Poetic Page, and Rat’s Ass Review, among others.
Pegasus 