TGIF the Mozart Way
Your Family’s Farm, Empty by Nick Lantz "Buildings can't want."—Donald Rumsfeld Neither does the ax regret each tree it has bitten, though it leans against the shed like a drunk locked out of his own house. The tractor doesn't moon over the physique of its youth. The dry birdbath makes no plans for the future. What can the barn recall of the day you climbed the ladder into its loft and found a pair of buzzard chicks skulking among the hay bales? Your grandfather shot them with a pistol and kicked them out of the haymow for you to carry to the ditch beyond the field. Does the barn remember those shots exploding inside it like a burst neuron? The weight of those bodies thudding to earth? Can the field remember your feet crossing it, the air heavy with crickets? Does the ditch remember the bones the coyotes gnawed and scattered? You stand here, where the walnut tree was felled, one foot on the smooth disc of...