Poems

There | Differences | In The Workshop After I Read My Poem Aloud | Wildflowers

THERE                                  Water, bone, bed, bedrock – whatever is underneath, below what's below. Sudden touchable quiet, shadow of a shadow. Weather. Sadness turning ordinary. Nameless illness coming on. A knock at the door so gentle it could be anything. Distance. The just thing not said, or said too late or said exactly and without mercy. Wind rising. Whatever might rise.   First published in Ploughshares. Also in Another Way to Begin (Finishing Line Press: 2006) and As If Gravity Were a Theory (Cider Press Review: 2006).