Under a Country Sky

Under a Country Sky Derek Ellis (bio) Without sound, her legs were brokenafter my uncle backed over themwith his truck. Calm. Tail wagging,but unable to walk—unable to drageven her body from the driveway intothe grass. Scooping her up, my fathercarries her into the level field behindthe house, into the wild grasses.He couldn't stop the shaking, the gun'sgrip still sweat-stained when I take it,inserting its barrel into her ear. Then,just before it happens, she seemshappy to have me opening a door,with its heavy hinge, to let her in. The applause of birds and bleat of a fawnfelled the work of the hayfield into silence.I found my grandfather staring downat it, balled up in a pile of mown hay—the blades of the mower cut off its legs.Walking to the tractor, he grabs a wrenchand, without looking back, hands it to me.I felt the weight of the tool, so familiar,but this was a different way of repair.The sky bows down, two turkey vulturessit shrugging on the old antenna tower. [End Page 98] I approach and the fawn quiets, but whenI hit it the first time I was too soft—it begancrying again. Harder, I beat it three more timesbefore hauling it by the ears to the wood's edge.Covering it best I could, a makeshift burialof leaves and briars, I hear a doe's call deepwithin the holler. Then the wind settles asthe sun begins slipping a blanket of orangeover everything, calling us all into the dark. [End Page 99] Derek Ellis Derek Ellis is a graduate of the University of Maryland's mfa program, where he's taught intro classes in creative writing and rhetoric. He has poems appearing in Five Points and the Break Fast Lit Journal. He lives in Beowyn Heights, Maryland. Copyright © 2020 University of Nebraska Press