Nebraska, Summer

by Greta Bolger
The Waters
First Place, February 2018
Judged by C. Wade Bentley


Like tar, she softens in the heat,
a would-be hazard elsewhere.
Her father, careless sentry

stays hidden under the truck
that’s never not in need of fixing,
soles of his beat-up boots

keeping watch. Not many lunatics
this far out anyway, no cars, nights so dark
every star can be seen and counted.

Listen. Soft radio clear as glass
all the way from Lincoln, love songs
rhythmic as she rocks, wood kissing wood.


I love the way the feel of the poem is as languid as a summer day, one line slipping easily into the next, alliteration and assonance doing their job but without bravado. The last stanza, in particular, commands that we listen, and then doesn’t miss a note. --C. Wade Bentley