At-Hand—Luke Harvey

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by Luke Harvey

Nothing new, just a flare-up of the old
chronic condition, chief symptom of which

is wishing for the neighbor’s fence
and all that it encloses. One supposes

that given a large enough yard
and a floor-plan with plenty of space

for the children to go, or rather
no yard at all to mow and only the square

foot you're standing on to heat and cool,
(maybe a pool, the neighbor’s spouse

to share it with you,) contentment—that last,
firm grape—will quit slipping the fork

to explore the wide porcelain plate
of possibility, at last coming to meet

the mouth with a deciding crunch.
One supposes all kinds of things that aren’t

true, reaching across the table for another
grape instead of the waiting spoon.

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Luke Harvey lives with his wife and two daughters in Chickamauga, GA, at their home, Oak Haven. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in journals such as Spiritus, The Christian Century, The North American Anglican, Delta Poetry Review, and elsewhere. His first collection, Let’s Call It Home, was published by Cascade Books in the Poiema Poetry Series. ​Luke works primarily as a high school English teacher, but also runs the Oak Haven Writing Workshops.

This poem was excerpted from Let’s Call It Home by Luke Harvey.

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