up around here
you'll see them in lots of places

in front of gas stations and country stores
dead statues carved from wood

but there is something very different about this one
just down the road a piece

he is a flat, sharp-faced metal man
a smooth black iron silhouette

heated and forged, beaten thin into the world
with his maker's heavy hammer

a creature with a hole for an eye
and yet, I do not think he is blind

one big foot imprisoned in the ground
the other in midair

one arm forward and the other back
as if frozen in rigid gallop

a rusted, unnatural man, better off hiding in the wild
trying to flee his creator

forever and always
a few steps from the woodland's edge

Author Reading

About the Author

Victoria Twomey has appeared as a featured poet at various venues around New York City, including The Poetry Barn, Barnes & Noble, and Borders Books. Her poems have been published in several anthologies, in newspapers, and on the web, including Red Ogre Review, Sanctuary Magazine, BigCityLit, PoetryBay, The Tipton Poetry Journal, Verse-Virtual, The Agape Review, The Trouvaille Review, and others. Her poem Pieta was nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Visit her online at