There is no wrong way get into, just press it. Back of keyboard becomes dirt ground, press to become a foot and see the dirt disturbed come up on outer edge of sneaker foot, you have to picture it to feel:
it also work through screen. Three children Henry, Elinor, and August they are holding just-hatched chicks bought for my cousin’s business taking pictures
hold if you want: when look at child holding, feel your hand cup how you think
as underneath each click were ground unsettle dirt for nesting screen-for-looking reaches, chicks.
on side of hill I drive, now Colorado more shades of tan of red there is an animal deer, no they must be goats, are white on hillside —not hillside, every few feet ground parts into hillock blanched from winter, like maybe the deer
why now has been sweet, too many to count not just the animals, pieces of ground to whom I keep returning, where person lives to whom I can, after
have learned what is hard, from elsewhere have learned what is soft it is not ever me but the goats who are home.
Second to Last
Store we are outside my husband says better not go in I say but we are here he says the distance is not relevant, the many risks
but store across the street, you can see the sky is blue, I win he piles in my arms three bags of carrots wet from ice just hatched
look down at basket: reach having, we have
Amanda Auerbach teaches literature and creative writing at Catholic University in Washington D.C. Her book of poems What Need Have We For Such as We was published by C&R Press in 2019, and her poems have also appeared in TheParis Review, Kenyon Review, Conjunctions, and Fence.