Poetry

She sank and died—the girlfrom out of town that summer.They pulled her bodylike waterweed, then winter came,enclosed the lake in glass, and sealedthe dark cavern of our questions.We skated on the frozen shell.All around, the mountains glitteredchained in ice. The lake was pale blueand cracked with stars—We lay on our backsacquiring a sense of the…

“as if more than mortality brightened the air,like a girl tanning on a rock alone”—Derek Walcott Weighing less than a bead of perspiration, a mayflyalights on her breasts as if she’s chosen to wearthe identity that’s chosen her in this heat where the borders of beauty evaporatealong with the past. How long since she’s been…

Despite the electric gate to the driveway,it wouldn’t be hard to get inside the house.It’s white, with a matching fire escape, a pool-ladderleading up to the second-floor porch. I’d just have to be careful scaling the spikeson the five-foot wrought iron fence,move stealthily through the manicured shrubbery,past the rubber chicken on a rod,a throw from…

The Scheherazades played bridge everyThursday afternoon. Probably there werereasons for this as the ladies in the groupmight, on occasion, attest. The sea was therebefore them, its meaning immeasurable.After a twelfth trick, the one most beautifulsurprised by confessing there had beenno ”relations” for six years. Some nervouslaughter, of course, and the one who was onceMiss Duluth…

Two doors down the neighbor kid hunga white wire reindeer with twinkle lightsfrom a tree as if freshly shot and readyfor butchery. It’s pleasing to live so nearthe country, the trees, the rolling hillsand apple stands. But it does meanyou have to put up with gun shotsinto the scrub land on winter evenings.Some nights there’s…

All the positions are filled, the pastor said,but you could be a floater. MeaningI woke each morning not knowing and at breakfast a man named Archertold me what to get busy with. On MondayI hunched in the kitchen scrubbing beets. On Tuesday I helped the carpentersdismantle a barn’s gable. Weeks blurredlike faces seen from a…

all at once you are inside & outside & closer to god I like the balconybest when it’s raining over the railing vertical garden strawberrystrawberry if I wanted to shout at the masses in all manner of witnessI would bend over this balcony light as my sniper’s bullet & fill myfists with fruit grace me…

in the shelter of pine boughs the needles patterning our skin. What we did under the tree or what we tried to do, or what was done, what we told ourselves when we were home lying in our bunks at night while the neighborhood receded and shadows clawed at the windowpanes. Some days, the cones…

I wonder what Tomaz is doing in the afterlife. It’s not totally dark yet here but my shadow is getting pretty confident. There wasn’t a window here before but there is now. I know I’m nothing but a drop of water but not if I’m rain or dew or a tear from a stone eye….