A New Englander Listens to Pet Sounds
Listening to the crinkle of a detuned guitar
like sunlit leaves
on narrow roads,
so far from California’s highways
around lizard-like mountains
basking in the parched sun,
riding with my uncle and my father
past maple trees, past stone walls,
past abandoned tractors in fields.
Marianne Szlyk teaches her students to avoid sentence fragments and run-ons.