Nebraska Center for Writers

IN THE DENTIST'S WAITING ROOM
by SARAH FAIRCHILD

Pheasant feathers blend
into an arrangement of dry

cattails, pine cones, and eucalyptus
leaves. Piped music croons

"it's all right" over the gurgle
of a suction hose, the mosquito

hum of a drill. The plaid couch
across the room sags on one end

as if bearing the weight of someone
turned successfully invisible.

Copyright © 1996 by Sarah Fairchild


NOT LOST, FOR ONCE,
by SARAH FAIRCHILD

I arrive half an hour early, wait
in the car, watching mist make
tiny bird tracks across my windshield.
Naked poplars bend before fingers
of wind; robins and sparrows hop
through quivering grass. I hear the caws
of an invisible crow over the purring
of my engine. For the sake of the earth,
I turn it off. Now I hear wind moaning
through my window, the flirting of birds.
I can't see the clock: the digital
numbers stop shining when the engine
is off. No matter, I'm sure I can wait
a few minutes. A droning UPS truck turns
the corner behind me, blares its horn:
time to get moving. Wind rumbles
through the trees like thunder. At last
the long graceful wings of a crow
glide over the top of a house, then swoop
out of sight. Nothing has been lost.
I did not need to leave an hour early
to find this place, did not waste
half and hour watching for crows,
finding this poem.

Copyright © 1996 by Sarah Fairchild


SPRING
by SARAH FAIRCHILD

      At last
        on this barren
stick of a tree:
      brown buds,
        and here,
          some green!

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