Moments Before the Spring Rain Drowning of Orlando, a Beloved Pig, He Speaks

I mean how different is this
than the last time?
To be the one not chosen
as part of the chosen pair
of pigs when Noah
built his ark, to know

the exact scent
of loneliness
from being awake
all night. Sure,

there’s a frantic final dash
when I find myself
at the deep end of the flood.
Even the farmer in her dell
must eventually
give in to this moment. But,

it isn’t bad. I feel sleepy
and I don’t mind
the little dreamy curiosity
of which world I’m really in.

 

 

Author of the article

Jeanne Lutz grew up on a small dairy farm in southern Minnesota, attended the National University of Ireland Galway, and spent two years in Japan. A Pushcart Prize nominee, Best-of-the-Net nominee, and Loft Mentor Series fellow for poetry, she is the author of the chapbook Hearts and Harrows and her poetry has appeared in The Missouri Review, NonBinary Review, Conduit, and elsewhere. She divides her time between the family farm and working at the Minneapolis Institute of Art.