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The Branch

A gigantic pair
of antlers mounted
in the tree’s trophy room

crashes beside the obvious
shed, the oblivious
shelter for my disappointing push

mower, my yard sale
rake, shovel, a hovel with moss
spotted shingles, rotted

trim, mud dauber h[e]aven,
were it not for my bat.
The wasps want my rafter beams.

The fallen branch wants me
to get out of the way
so its clattering fender of medieval

meat skewers can fork
the tender ground I stand on
in my sandals, scratching

a chiggered ankle. When to step aside,
to say OK, have it your way,
is a question that always eludes me.

Cameron Morse is the senior reviews editor at Harbor Review and the author of eight collections of poetry. His first collection, Fall Risk, won Glass Lyre Press’s 2018 Best Book Award. His latest is The Thing Is (Briar Creek Press, 2021). He holds an M.F.A. from the University of Kansas City—Missouri and lives in Independence, Missouri, with his wife Lili and (soon, three) children.

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