RUMMY IN THE GARDEN

 Devon Balwit

The chickens know nothing of viruses.

They scratch beneath the outspread arms

of blossoming apple trees. The straw pile

houses sleeping rats equally unconcerned

about anything but the night-time

BB-gun. Kale ruffles purple breakers

from its bed, flagrantly joyous. We play

rummy in the sun, game after game,

small harvests of runs, three of a kind,

our smacktalk loud against the quiet

of a city in quarantine. Even the cat sings, hungry

for the fat robins staking out the season’s

territory. Leashed, like us, he can only dream

of victory. Soon, these small white blossoms

will become blueberries. Soon, these cages

will shoulder tomatoes. Soon, we too

will unfold. We draw from the pile,

biding our time.

When not teaching, Devon Balwit sets her hand to the plough and chases chickens in Portland, OR. Her most recent chapbook is Rubbing Shoulders with the Greats [Seven Kitchens Press, 2020]. Her most recent collection, Dog-Walking in the Shadow of Pyongyang, is forthcoming [Nixes Mate Press, 2021]. For more of her work, visit her website: https://pelapdx.wixsite.com/devonbalwitpoet