I dreamed of teeth

I dreamed of teeth
cracking teeth walnut

shells my cheek
hot on your back

leave corners of your
field unharvested

leave space for
gleaning the margins

flourish when you cry
you cry upward. Hang

beneath the eaves
a bottle for birds:

friend of the farmer
replenish exhaustion

rotate wheat, bean,
fallow. A worm

in silhouette curls
steady left, steady right

ascending a way so fine
only the trust of cycle

and habit keep him
suspended. Bore

your fencepost
straight and deep

above the mist
sprung valley

I was born and I
have never left.

J. Freeborn is a high school teacher in New York. They are friends with mostly teachers (and some poets).