This is called Land of Little Sticks, 1945.
Where the wife is scouring the frying
pan, and the husband is leaning up against the barn.
Where the boy child is pumping water
into a bucket, and the girl is chasing a spotted dog.
And the sky churns on the horizon.
A town by the name of Pleasantville has disappeared.
And now the horses begin to shift and whiny,
and the chickens roost, keep looking this way and that.
At this moment, something is not quite right.
The boy trundles through the kitchen, spilling water.
His mother removes several pies from the oven, shouts at him.
The girl child sits down by the fence to stare at the horses.
And the man is just as he was, eyes closed,
forehead against his forearm, leaning up against the barn.