Brat in the garden of eden / emily lake hansen
It got wild by accident - the clover
and crabgrass and dandelions growing
without permission. Our sons tiptoe
among them, maneuvering around
miniature strawberries we didn’t plant.
Watch out for their red heads!
they scream in a cloud of laughter
and marvel. Each Sunday, we mean to chop
it down, to trudge the neighbor’s borrowed
mower through our monster grass. We wanted
it to be clean and sparse - we like rules,
we drank at 21 in measured sips, you
a dark whiskey, me a red wine because
wasn’t I a lady? But the clover is so tall
it’s flowered now, fluffy white heads we pick
sometimes and place in slender vases
around the house. How do I explain
that the word home hurts when I read it
and that sometimes I imagine our yard
as Maleficent’s magnificent fortress? Inside
we are safe enough to possess evil.
Emily Lake Hansen is the author of the chapbook The Way the Body Had to Travel (dancing girl press). Her work has appeared in Nightjar Review, The McNeese Review, Stirring, and Atticus Review among others. She currently writes, teaches, and plays too many children's board games in Atlanta.