CHARLIE TELLS ME THINGS
Jeremy Aufrance

When the wind is right across the fields,
I hear my father crying as he repairs
the broken hitch on the old IH tractor.
I’m trying to forget this new sound
as I play with my cousin Charlie.
We throw corncobs at crows
and dig holes to trap tigers.
Charlie tells me if I touch the baby rabbits,
their mother will leave and they will die.
My mother’s been dead two months,
since the snow turned to ice on 810
and her visit to the Home killed her.
Father still wears black pants,
eats the food his sister puts on the table,
whispers into corners when I brush my teeth.
Charlie tells me stories about ghosts,
and I ask if Mother’s on the barn roof,
watching us as we stomp chicks.
Charlie tells me angels watch, not ghosts:
Ghosts are there to drive us crazy.
I hear Father and wonder what he knows.