4/7

i give him seeds to scatter into furrows 
his tiny hands are moist and impulsive 

and splash the grains of carrot and lettuce 
with an indelicate throw 

i say let’s cover them gently with soil 
and he smashes his palm down 

i am planting the snow peas 
and he has found the pumpkin seeds 

and empties the bag at my feet 
sees! sees! he says yes plants will grow here 

and when they do i will show him 
each sprout and upcurling vine 

each green globe turned gold 
i want him to know that he can foster life 

even with his fists clumsy with 
growth 

i want him to know it is easy to 
summon bees and simulate rain 

i want him to eat a leaf that he spawned 
and for it to become 

part of his flesh i want god to spring 
from the soil in twisted 

veins of sun 

Photograph copyrighted © 2022 by Scott Ferry. All rights reserved.

5/12

today my words don’t have any 
magic 

they clank like steel fingers on a 
prosthetic chest 

today my voice is a coin which dissolves 
like alka seltzer in the rain 

i have a fake ocean 
underground but it is closed 

the seabirds are broken 
and the fish suspicious 

nobody is allowed down here 
anyways 

so don’t 
ask 

Photograph copyrighted © 2022 by Scott Ferry. All rights reserved.

5/13

take apart my head 
	inside the first layer 
dry ramen talk 
	inside that 
arrows and poultice 
	inside that 
saltwind and sea 
	inside that 
steel so thick it weeps 
	inside that 
a traveler singing into a hole 
	inside the hole 
disastrous love 
	and on my lips 
bloodfeathers 

Photograph copyrighted © 2022 by Scott Ferry. All rights reserved.

5/15

the rain breaks in the afternoon 
and i ask my son to come outside 
and look at the bees 

the rosemary is a hanging metropolis 
of light purple tongues and a frenetic 
swimming of orange-black and blurwing 

we stare at the patterns 
of flight the bright hunger and spin 
the contented insertion into petal 

and pollen-dappled fur and i realize 
that i never used to watch the bees 
but it is a kind of godtrance 

which is at the center of our living 
i’m just glad my slice of ground 
provides such an orgy of nectar 

and bloom i’m grateful that my son 
stands here with me and in this way 
is witness 

to how we may 
pray 

Photograph copyrighted © 2022 by Scott Ferry. All rights reserved.

Photographs appear here with poet’s permission.

Scott Ferry

helps our Veterans heal as an RN in the Seattle area. His next book of poetry, The Long Blade of Days Ahead, is due out in August from Impspired. Links to his other books, including his first collection, The only thing that makes sense is to grow (Moon Tide Press, 2019), are available at his website:

Ferrypoetry.com