Issue 24 | Winter 2020

Chicken Farm

The squawks and flaps
are like a host of angels falling.

Feathers scatter with each step,
a swirl of snow flurries.

Her family uses the remains—
feet fried, eyes pickled.

On the bank of the river,
a steering wheel dangles

from a rope. While the boys
swing and jump, she skips stones,

noting the brief buoyancy
before each is sucked back into the river.

Filed under: Poetry

Paulette Guerin is a graduate of the MFA program at the University of Florida. She lives in Arkansas and teaches literature and writing at Harding University. Her poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Best New Poets 2018, ep;phany, Concho River Review, Twyckenham Notes, 2 River View, and others. She also has a chapbook, Polishing Silver. Her blog is