by Will Finlayson
Lumbering muscle—see him
crunch the bit between sore teeth;
Bare-boned. Back-strapped.
Grit layered on Grace.
Man, labor born, bears the
summer calf—baptized in Mother’s
blood—with soft-strong arms as
god looks down and wonders.
Blunder-drunk, he wears
boots to bed and cakes the
sheets in mud; he washes them
in the morning and
weeps for her. By evening, he’ll
sow the fields with sweat, grind the
flesh to gore, and sleep in
clean sheets.
Will Finlayson is senior at BYU studying English, communications, editing, and creative writing. He is a level 7 Kensai in D&D.
