My father took aim out the window,
Following, with his gun
A dark shape moving
In the Queen Anne’s Lace,
In the goldenrod.
My father came in from the field,
Ahead of the dusk, swinging
A groundhog by its black paw.
It was as big as a two-year-old.
“Nathan, Naomi, Stephen,” he said.
“Come out here, on the porch.
I’m going to show you
The chambers of the heart.”
i like this one.