Meadows, we would joke,
where they put you out to pasture—
now it is our mother
we need to find a place for.
Brown building, brown cornfields.
Crows mind the few ragtag
shocks still standing. November—
her birthday, a low, scowling sky.
Yes, here it is, home, where they
have to take you in, the angels’
drawing room, the last train’s
depot, the final trapdoor.
My sister says when it’s her turn
she’ll walk out one winter night,
take the pills. Bury me not
on the lone prairie, I sing.
When the director greets us
we are laughing hysterically.
Debra Kaufman is the author of Delicate Thefts and The Next Moment (both by Jacar Press) and A Certain Light (Emrys) as well as three chapbooks. She is also a playwright, an editor for the online journal One, and a member of the board of trustees of the Paul Green Foundation. A Midwest native, she often writes of the complexity of the lives of those living in small towns.