He planted corn in the field by the road
and built a wide wooden swing for the thick oaks
in the yard. They’d sit on the swing a
watch the kids play. Their brick house
was shaped like a fort. The kids crawled across haybales
like spiders, pulled at ancient moss
with their fingers. They would both sit and winnow
apples with knives, beans into buckets, watch
grandkids—one standing with her hand on her hip,
and the other, reading books on the green plateau.