Fissured Tongue Series

151
by M. H. Perry 
​Fissured Tongue Series Vol VI  |  May 2025​

“Split the Difference" by Robb Kunz. Oil on canvas, 30 x 24 inches, 2024

151

        Just to be sure, I get the spotting scope out of the truck and set it up in the reeds that cut the lake off from the hillside above. He can’t see me, but I can see him, sitting cross-legged on a glacial erratic the earth movers spit out of the coal vein when Peabody strip-mined the prairie ​years ago. His hair is longer than mine, which is saying something, since I haven’t seen the inside of a salon since my son almost died (he did die, my husband insists; you just refuse to let him go). The man is wearing a kandora, a long, white, beltless robe. Around him stands a herd of sheep, encircling the big rock he sits on like the petals of an enormous white chrysanthemum.

        You understand that this is Indiana? The land ravaged by the mining company is now grown up with grass and studded with lakes the migrating waterfowl come to rest in between flights. While the visiting nurse looks after my son, I drive out here to photograph the birds.

       My son loves the photos. He can’t see them, but I sit at the side of his bed and describe them: “The Atlantic Brant is a small goose with a black head and chest. There’s a patch of white on its neck, like a badge it won for flying all this way from the high Arctic tundra.” He can’trespond, unless you count the waltz beat of his ventilator, suck-bump-bump, suck-bump-bump.

       As I do.

       I watch the petals move clockwise. The shepherd slides to the edge of the rock so the ewes can nudge a lamb between his knees. When he lifts it in the air, I see its withered foreleg. I know it is a danger to the rest of the flock, since a coyote pack will scent the weakness. The shepherd will lose the crippled lamb and any slow-moving sheep in its vicinity unless he does something to save it.

       He pulls the lamb onto his lap. The petals tighten. I can see only the top of the man’s head.
   
       He may be singing.
    
       It’s possible he’s praying.
     
       I knock over the tripod in my hurry to get up the hill. The sheep step away as I move ​closer to the rock.
  
       “Are you hungry?” the shepherd calls to me.
  
       Without meaning to, I nod my head.
    
       When he lays the lamb with the shriveled leg on the sloping side of the stone, I realize he’s not wearing a robe but a surgical gown over a long-sleeved, white shirt.
    
       “Do you want to use your own knife, or would you rather borrow mine?”
    
​       My knife?
    
       I put my hand on my right hip and find the leather scabbard hooked to my belt. It has ​hung there long enough to wear through the flat fell seam of my jeans.

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About the Author 
​M. H. Perry’s work recently has appeared/soon will appear in venues such as The Sewanee Review, Boulevard, and The Penn Review. Her chapbook, The Country We Live In, was published by The Heartland Review Press, and her poem “Fragile Animals” was nominated for a Pushcart Prize. She currently is Master Naturalist in Residence at the Perry Farm, where she grows-to-share organic fruits and vegetables and tends a hundred acres of native plants.

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About the Work
I conceived “151” as a meditation on loss—our environment, our loved ones. Its name alludes to the Book of Psalms which ends, as you know, with 150.

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About the Author’s Process
I’m a firm believer in spending time each day in a quiet space where I can hear the muse when she speaks. If we listen, she will speak.

About the Artist
Robb Kunz hails from Teton Valley, Idaho. He received his MFA in creative writing from the University of Idaho. He currently teaches writing at Utah State University and is the Art and Design Faculty Advisor of Sink Hollow: An Undergraduate Literary Journal. His art has been published in Peatsmoke Journal, Red Ogre Review, Fatal Flaw Literary Magazine, and New Delta Review. His art is upcoming in Ponder Review, Glassworks Magazine, and Anodyne Magazine.

"My paintings explore the abstract simplicity of ordinary life and the deductive impulse to see ourselves reflected back in art. My medium of choice is oil and pencil. Using embroidery and fabric manipulation is a recent expansion of my artistic expression. Combining differing elements creates a dissonance that inspires and propels me forward in my work."

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