Karst rock crumbles onto the road
undercut
by channels of many rains flashing
sediment downhill
into Turkey Creek.
A pair of goldfinch flirt above
a patch of Queen Anne’s lace—
root taps deep into earth.
Steep banks above the road formed from sandy
layers
cemented over millions of years.
Rust colored
flecks of iron stain this sandstone
amalgam—
minerals, mud, fossils, pebbles, plants.
Our land’s bedrock fractures weep.
Blue cornflower opens this morning
down the bank below the road
where two buckeye trees
suspend a slew of fruit.
Years ago those hardwood seeds befriended a torn patch of earth
worn with fissures
found all across our land.
—
Molly O’Dell loves being outdoors. She received an MFA from University of Nebraska and published a chapbook, Off the Chart, a multi-genre collection, Care is a Four Letter Verb and Unsolicited: 96 Saws and Quips from the Wake of the Pandemic was published for her public health colleagues. She currently serves as the poetry editor for the Journal of Medical Humanities. For more visit www.doctormolly.net
