Joan of Arc

God speaks in the tittering of the Crock-Pot full
of chicken & dumplings

& three hours away, my father’s dead best friend’s ashes listen
from within their jam jar next to the bird book &
the binoculars & the illuminated Bible.

A sinkhole in Lancaster, Pennsylvania swallowed six cars.

& the ashes glow blue in front of the flickering
of a televised Orioles game—
blue like the school portraits & the Vietnam memorabilia & the torn half of a dollar bill
safe in my father’s wallet safe
in his pocket.

Abigail Swoboda is a poet, practitioner of Pennsylvania Dutch Braucherei, and kindergarten teacher who lives in Philadelphia. Their debut poetry collection VISCERA AMERICANA is available now from Thirty West Publishing House. WEB & TWITTER