City and Country
The sun filters in through the back porch,
And the morning’s commerce has begun.
They could’ve been sisters,
But by fate, are separated.
A farmer, and Park Avenue royalty,
If, by chance, should meet,
Might haggle over a chicken
After she of the furs and pearls and diamond pin
Pulls up to the farmhouse,
Screen door snapping with the slightest breeze,
White clapboards bright as her whitened teeth,
In a chauffeured limousine,
She is helped out, of course, ceremoniously.
Her country counterpart finishes brewing coffee,
As the dogs bark at their unaccustomed visitor.
Shrugging on her green fleece jacket,
Hat pulled on as an afterthought,
Its worn red pompom bobbing
As she strides out to greet her customer,
Whose coin purse is tucked delicately under her arm,
Waiting frowningly, no red carpet to
Walk upon in the plots where crops grow.
So it’s a chicken you want?
Glancing knowingly at her guest from the city,
She can’t help but smile, holding mirth back,
Though it crinkles her sun-toughened face,
Aware that under a moneyed gaze,
It isn’t only a chicken being appraised.
Well, charming and quaint as this Sunday drive has been,
The comforts of the Plaza beckon,
And so, too, does a chicken française,
Not this paltry poultry you offer me;
I suppose I can do without eggs.
Thus, they part ways,
But from the limousine window,
She looks out at the white clapboard farmhouse,
The mint green door on its last hinges,
Sky of blue, wider and freer than anything,
That deserves to be transfigured in paint:
The quiet serendipity of a country day.
Kathryn Sadakierski’s writing has appeared in The Bangor Literary Journal, The Ekphrastic Review, Nine Muses Poetry, Teachers of Vision, Dime Show Review, The Decadent Review, Visual Verse, iō Literary Journal, and elsewhere.