Wild Flowers

By Matthew Vetter Matthew Vetter
At fifty-six, having left my mother,   
my father buys a motorcycle.   
I imagine him because   
it is the son’s sorrowful assignment   
to imagine his father: there,   
hunched on his mount,   
with black boots, with bad teeth,   
between shifts at the mill,   
ripping furrows in the backroads,   
past barn and field and silo,   
past creek and rock,   
past the brown mare,   
sleek in her impertinence,   
never slowing until he sees   
the bull.   He stops, pulls   
his bike to the side of the road,   
where golden rod and clover grow,   
walks up to the fence, admires   
its horns, its wet snout snorting and blowing   
its breath, its girth, its trampling   
of small wild flowers.

Poem copyright © 2008 by Matthew Vetter. Reprinted from The Louisville Review, No. 63, Spring 2008, by permission of Matthew Vetter.

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Poet Matthew Vetter

POET’S REGION U.S., Midwestern

Subjects Living, Parenthood, Death, Sorrow & Grieving, Relationships, Family & Ancestors

Poetic Terms Free Verse

 Matthew  Vetter


Poet Matthew Vetter earned an MFA in creative writing from Spalding University. His poems have been published in the Louisville Review and Midwest Quarterly, and have been featured in Ted Kooser’s American Life in Poetry column. Vetter is a PhD candidate in English at Ohio University. He co-writes a blog with Jill Koren.

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SUBJECT Living, Parenthood, Death, Sorrow & Grieving, Relationships, Family & Ancestors

POET’S REGION U.S., Midwestern

Poetic Terms Free Verse

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