After the Funeral<\/p>\n
We pushed our bicycles up to Halstaad\u2019s Field, fallow
\nfor years now, overrun with brambles and thistle.
\nSweat soaked our clothes, too black for August amid weeks
\nwithout rain. At the hill\u2019s crest, the farmhouse faded from view\u2014mother
\nat a window somewhere, inconsolably repeating the scripture\u2019s refrain\u2014
\nand we cut across to the narrow trail we\u2019d worked three summers carving.<\/p>\n
It took longer than it should have to catch my breath, but when Eddie said,
\n\u201cI dare you,\u201d I mounted my bicycle and let fly. The kingdom of heaven
\nis like a cloudless summer sky, earth beneath it parched<\/p>\n
and aching. I could feel Eddie gaining on me, and I pedaled
\nharder, veins thrumming my temples, reveling in the dust storm
\nwe had created, coating our clothes and our faces. The kingdom is like
\nthe forgotten field, rocks heaved to the surface by centuries of frost.
\nThen, the scree-strewn clearing a hairsbreadth away, which,
\nat the point of overtaking, the slightest clip of the handlebars
\nsends you toward, and over, chain sprung from its wheel, pedals
\nspinning a windmill fury. The kingdom of heaven is like\u2014look, Eddie,
\nno hands!\u2014rising from the saddle as though lifted, weightless, close
\nas I\u2019ve been to birds when their wings are stretched in flight.<\/p>\n
When we returned, mother wouldn\u2019t know us, transformed
\nas we were by sweat and dust, beaming like children who\u2019d never
\nlost a thing, who\u2019d tasted the kingdom\u2019s salt moments before
\nthe yawning sky lets go to gravity, before the tumble
\nand burn, the elusive wisp of freedom snatched by the sear
\nof gravel as it enters, irrevocably, the flesh.
\n <\/p>\n
Kathryn Smith\u00a0<\/a>received her MFA from the Inland Northwest Center for Writers at Eastern Washington University, where she helped edit Willow Springs<\/a>. \u00a0She is\u00a0a copy editor for The Spokesman-Review<\/em>, a master gardener in training, and a community volunteer. \u00a0Her poems have appeared in Rock and Sling, <\/a>Redactions,<\/em> and Third Coast.<\/em>\u00a0 She lives in Spokane, Washington.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" After the Funeral We pushed our bicycles up to Halstaad\u2019s Field, fallow for years now, overrun with brambles and thistle. Sweat soaked our clothes, too black for August amid weeks without rain. At the hill\u2019s crest, the farmhouse faded from … Continue reading