Smithereens Press Chapbooks Taking the Oath by Tom French | Page 26

Pig Sty, Janeville

Stone-walled, slated, pitched,
this tiny house swept out,
its occupants devoured, brings
that flat country on the outskirts
of Toulouse to mind, in the midst
of sunflower fields, platoons
hanging their black heads,
under the same roof as the sow
who dozed on the far side of a
breeze block wall that trembled
as she breathed, keeping me awake
in the weeks of the vendange,
because she was crying
in her sleep, so humanly
and inconsolably, it was
as if grief had waited
until she’d settled for the night
to draw and sink its blade.

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