Shielded from a westward sun that could burn
Through ripply glass circa 1899
Mandy the puppy buried open, no urn
Covered above in sweet pea vine

The shadows of Cottonwood trickle and turn
White soft stars of dandelion
Fall in the shade of the big red barn
Next to a Kern’s jar filled with turpentine

Between barn and window, green was sewn
Carrot tops, beet tops, corn, opine
Feed us from the fur of the dog outgrown
Our gems around her grave grow greener

About the Author:

Voluntarily removed from parochial school in the 4th grade over sexual content in a book she was publishing for friends, Darby Bailey eventually went from downtown Salt Lake City to Santa Cruz to L.A., where she is pursing her B.A. degree at Antioch University. When she’s not writing, Darby makes a living as a voice over artist, actress and musician. She is a proud resident of downtown Los Angeles and supports it’s revitalization.