Americana

— Russell Brakefield

When the first bird coughed
and lost its breath—
                                    ruby blur through a bath of smoke

                                    —was there a lilt or turn tilted
                                    in her morning mouth?

Like a cowboy tune sung on a smoker’s lung,

                                    the melody waivers.

                                    The rhythm’s gone.


Read more from Issue No. 30 or share on Twitter.