Dutchman’s Breeches
By Mary Swander
Van Dry, Van Wilt, Van Sickle—
O, ye of little faith, another winter without snow,
another April creek gone.
But clothespin to seam, six blossoms to a stem,
the Dutchman’s breeches hang on the line.
And here are the bloodroot, the toothwort,
Mayapple and trillium, the small under my heel—
six strong men when I need them:
Van Patter, Vanwater, Vanglen.
O, ye of little hope, when the trees rain,
unrolling their canopy, the ash leaves
crumble, and the earth, able to absorb more
steps closer.
O, ye of little heart, hoof, wing—
crop for crop, the pelicans return,
skimming the slough, while the wild hogs
rout under the fence with their young
for last year's corn, and the owl retrieves
the shrew impaled on the locust thorn.
Copyright Credit: Mary Swander, "Dutchman's Breeches" from Heaven-and-Earth House. Copyright © 1994 by Mary Swander. Used by permission of Alfred A Knopf, an imprint of the Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group, a division ofPenguin Random House LLC. All rights reserved.