Another of Nature’s Plans by Austin Lange THIRD P LACE He and I approach this new peak in disbelief Stand back in awe of what will converge when given this new life. We dream of our chance in the Badlands with you resting on my back, a handful of leashes in your father’s hands as the three of us climb, passing over ground compressed with layers of our ancestors, bones of species pass, fungi spores, dragonfly paper wings lost in the wind, eggshells of those who broke the surface, blood and spit. For now, in the yard’s underbrush, I think of you as you propagate listening in silence as I tell you of the smell of ripe plums hanging in our tree, the evening vibrations of cicadas rising in the humidity’s drawl, how to wash the dog’s paws of mulberry stains or shoo chickens out of the blueberry bushes. The pecan tree continues her feedings now, her veins prepped for carrying to the many hard-shelled young she will grow. In time, you will be here resting with your soft cheek on my neck or with warm hand laid down on your father’s chest as we doze together in the dappled morning of winter’s plans.
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