Upload
others
View
0
Download
0
Embed Size (px)
Citation preview
2RV
22.4
(Sum
mer
201
8)
2Riv
erw
ww
.2Ri
ver.o
rg74
74 D
rexe
l DR
• U
nive
rsity
City
• M
O •
631
30 •
USA
The
2Riv
er V
iew
22.4
(Sum
mer
201
8)
new
poe
ms
bySc
ott C
oyke
ndal
l, W
endy
Tay
lor C
arlis
leD
onal
d Ill
ich,
Eliz
abet
h La
ndru
m, M
icha
el L
auch
lan
Lain
e K
uehn
, Jam
es M
iller
, Kar
en J
une
Ols
onM
atth
ew S
. Par
sons
, Joh
n Sw
eet,
Will
iam
Wal
sh
The
Bea
ch ©
201
8 by
Mar
ia F
ilopo
ulou
The
2Riv
er V
iew
, 22.
4 (S
umm
er 2
018)
Abo
ut 2
Rive
r
Sinc
e 19
96, 2
Rive
r has
bee
n a
site
of p
oetr
y an
d ar
t, qu
arte
rly p
ublis
hing
The
2Ri
ver V
iew
and
occ
asio
nally
pu
blis
hing
indi
vidu
al a
utho
rs in
the
2Riv
er C
hapb
ook
Serie
s. 2
Rive
r is
also
the
hom
e of
Mud
dy B
ank,
the
2Riv
er
blog
.
Rich
ard
Long
, Edi
tor
2Riv
er
ISSN
153
6-20
86w
ww
.2Ri
ver.o
rgw
ww
.mud
dyba
nk.o
rgw
ww
.face
book
.com
/2Ri
verP
oetr
y2r
iver
.tum
blr.c
omtw
itter
.com
/2w
eetR
iver
(@2w
eetR
iver
)
The
2Riv
er V
iew
22.4
(Sum
mer
201
8)
ISSN
153
6-20
86
The
2Riv
er V
iew
, 22.
4 (S
umm
er 2
018)
Cont
ents
Scot
t Coy
kend
all
Aft
er h
ouse
pai
ntin
g, I
drea
m m
y de
ad b
roth
er ..
.
Wen
dy T
aylo
r Car
lisle
How
it W
asSo
mbr
ero
Don
ald
Illic
hTh
e K
now
n Fi
res
Whe
re th
e C
hild
Bel
ongs
Eliz
abet
h La
ndru
mLa
yers
in th
e Li
tter
Lain
e K
uehn
Twili
ght
Swimming Toward the Horizon © 2018 by Maria Filopoulou
Eliz
abet
h La
ndru
m, a
retir
ed c
linic
al p
sych
olog
ist,
enjo
ys
a qu
iet l
ife w
ith h
er w
ife a
nd d
og in
the
Pacifi c
Nor
thw
est.
Prev
ious
pub
licat
ions
incl
ude
Cirq
ue, G
rey
Spar
row
, Sha
rk
Reef
, Sou
ndin
gs R
evie
w, a
nd S
outh
ern
Wom
en’s
Revi
ew.
Mic
hael
Lau
chla
n ha
s po
ems
in p
ublic
atio
ns s
uch
as T
he
Dar
k H
orse
, Lou
isvi
lle R
evie
w, N
ew E
ngla
nd R
evie
w, T
he
Nor
th A
mer
ican
Rev
iew
, Poe
try
and
Virg
inia
Qua
rter
ly
Revi
ew. H
is m
ost r
ecen
t col
lect
ion
is T
rum
bull
Ave
.
Jam
es M
iller
is a
nat
ive
of H
oust
on. H
is m
ost r
ecen
t po
ems
have
app
eare
d in
Bos
ton
Acc
ent,
Col
d M
ount
ain
Revi
ew, G
yros
cope
, Lul
lwat
er R
evie
w, T
he M
aine
Rev
iew
, Pl
ains
ongs
, Sw
eet T
ree
Revi
ew, a
nd T
he T
ishm
an R
evie
w.
Kar
en J
une
Ols
on is
a w
riter
from
St.
Loui
s. H
er w
ork
has
appe
ared
in T
he M
as T
equi
la R
evie
w, T
hird
Wed
nesd
ay,
Tipt
on P
oetr
y Jo
urna
l, uc
ity re
view
, and
her
e at
2Ri
ver.
Mat
thew
S. P
arso
ns g
rew
up
in a
farm
ing
fam
ily in
Wes
t V
irgin
ia b
efor
e m
ovin
g to
Ken
tuck
y to
att
end
Ber
ea
Col
lege
. He
lives
now
on
a fa
mily
hom
este
ad a
nd w
orks
as
a m
usic
ian
and
luth
ier w
hile
ear
ning
his
MFA
from
Eas
tern
K
entu
cky
Uni
vers
ity’s
Blu
egra
ss W
riter
s St
udio
.
John
Sw
eet i
s th
e au
thor
of A
ppro
xim
ate
Wild
erne
ss
(Flu
tter
Pre
ss 2
016)
and
the
limite
d ed
ition
Hea
then
To
ngue
(201
8 K
endr
a St
eine
r Edi
tions
201
8).
Will
iam
Wal
sh is
the
dire
ctor
of t
he E
tow
ah V
alle
y Lo
w-
Resi
denc
y M
FA P
rogr
am a
t Rei
nhar
dt U
nive
rsity
. His
new
co
llect
ion
of p
oem
s, F
ly F
ishi
ng in
Tim
es S
quar
e, re
cent
ly
won
the
Cer
vena
Bar
va P
ress
Edi
tors
Ser
ies
Priz
e.
Underwater Swimmers © 2018 by Maria Filopoulou
The
2Riv
er V
iew
, 22.
4 (S
umm
er 2
018)
Aut
hors
Scot
t Coy
kend
all t
each
es jo
urna
lism
, tec
hnic
al
com
mun
icat
ion,
and
oth
er w
ritin
g co
urse
s at
Ply
mou
th
Stat
e U
nive
rsity
. His
poe
ms
have
app
eare
d in
Bla
ck F
ox
Lite
rary
Mag
azin
e, T
he C
ossa
ck R
evie
w, H
ayde
n’s
Ferr
y Re
view
, Mid
wes
t Qua
rter
ly, a
nd Q
uart
erly
Wes
t.
Wen
dy T
aylo
r Car
lisle
, who
live
s an
d w
rites
in th
e O
zark
s, is
th
e au
thor
of t
wo
book
s an
d fi v
e ch
apbo
oks,
mos
t rec
ently
, Th
ey W
ent t
o th
e B
each
to P
lay
(LoC
oFo
Cha
ps, 2
017)
.
Don
ald
Illic
h’s
poet
ry h
as a
ppea
red
in jo
urna
ls s
uch
as T
he
Iow
a Re
view
and
Pas
sage
s N
orth
. His
late
st c
hapb
ook
is
The
Art
of D
isso
lvin
g (F
inis
hing
Lin
e Pr
ess
2016
). C
hanc
e B
odie
s w
as ju
st p
ublis
hed
by T
he W
ord
Wor
ks.
Lain
e K
uehn
, a g
radu
ate
of D
enve
r Sch
ool o
f the
Art
s an
d th
e U
nive
rsity
of M
aine
—Fa
rmin
gton
, is
a st
eerin
g co
mm
ittee
mem
ber o
f the
Bel
fast
Poe
try
Fest
ival
and
co-
crea
tor a
nd c
o-ed
itor o
f The
Lar
k, a
n on
line
liter
atur
e an
d ar
ts m
agaz
ine.
Lain
e K
euhn
With
out K
eeni
ng
Mic
hael
Lau
chla
nFo
rtun
eYe
ats
Cal
ls
Jam
es M
iller
Aug
ust 2
017
Two
App
roac
hes
to D
ead
Tim
e
Kar
en J
une
Ols
onA
Riv
erVo
ice
Less
ons
from
a W
ritin
g C
lass
Mat
thew
S. P
arso
nsB
etch
a D
idn’
tH
onky
Ton
ka
John
Sw
eet
note
s on
the
afte
rmat
hpo
em li
ke th
e fa
ded
hear
ts o
f mar
tyrs
Will
iam
Wal
shRa
isin
g Fl
ower
s in
Dec
embe
rW
ine
Tast
ing
at W
ilber
and
Rud
y’s
Farm
Tab
le
The
2Riv
er V
iew
, 22.
4 (S
umm
er 2
018)
Will
iam
Wal
sh
Win
e Ta
stin
g at
Wilb
er a
nd R
udy’
s Fa
rm T
able
Aft
er s
ix d
ays
of ra
in, I
hav
e th
e ni
ght t
o sa
vor,
hour
s to
sm
ell t
he u
ncor
ked
Bor
deau
x fl o
win
g lik
e th
e D
ordo
gne,
whe
re c
oupl
es w
alk
hand
in h
and
over
sto
ne b
ridge
s, a
dmiri
ng th
e st
eep
cliff
s.
From
acr
oss
the
room
, I s
earc
h be
yond
the
gues
tssq
ueez
ing
betw
een
one
anot
her,
slow
ly, f
rom
one
so
mm
elie
r
to th
e ne
xt, u
ntil
I fi n
d th
e un
ders
tate
d w
hite
pea
rls
and
red
dres
s as
love
ly a
s a
nude
des
cend
ing
a st
airc
ase.
As
if ho
verin
g in
a d
ream
abo
ve th
e ga
llery
, the
oak
y ar
oma
undr
esse
s th
e fu
ture
and
sw
irls
unde
r my
tong
ue, t
he d
esire
to d
ance
with
her
, the
dry
tast
e ev
apor
atin
gbe
hind
our
lips
. The
vin
tner
s bl
ess
our f
aith
in th
e gr
ape,
caj
ole
the
linge
ring
afte
r-tas
te—
one
joke
s ab
out t
he G
irond
e es
tuar
y in
Fra
nce,
whe
re y
our t
ongu
e
will
fi nd
rom
ance
. I c
ould
ste
p ou
t of m
ysel
f, pr
eten
dto
be
a bi
llion
aire
and
imag
ine
you
in d
iam
onds
and
noth
ing
else
. Som
etim
es w
e kn
ow w
hat w
e sh
ould
n’t
know
, ho
w in
the
win
e re
sts
the
esse
nce
of re
fusa
l.
This
is a
ll I h
ave:
the fl e
sh
of m
y w
ords
pre
ssin
g ag
ains
t you
r lip
s.
Will
iam
Wal
sh
Rais
ing
Flow
ers
in D
ecem
ber
My
daug
hter
is ru
nnin
g he
r fi n
gers
up
and
dow
n th
e pi
ano
this
aft
erno
on, p
ract
icin
g he
r sca
les
as s
now
falls
on
the
gera
nium
s in
a te
rrac
otta
pot
on
the
back
por
ch, n
ow, a
bout
an
inch
thic
k.
I bou
ght t
hese
ger
aniu
ms
at H
ome
Dep
ot a
few
wee
ks a
godu
ring
sprin
g br
eak,
pla
nted
them
in b
lack
dirt
, car
eful
ly
wat
ered
and
wee
ded
them
, che
ckin
g ea
ch d
ay fo
r bud
s.La
tely
, the
wea
ther
’s tu
rned
war
m
and
I’ve
been
wal
king
aro
und
in p
laid
sho
rts
and
a D
uke
t-sh
irt—
just
yes
terd
ay, I
sat
on
the
porc
h en
joyi
ng w
hat’s
left
of T
he M
aste
rs—
beer
in o
ne h
and,
Sh
aron
Old
s an
d M
arie
How
e in
the
othe
r. B
ut n
ow,
a no
r’eas
ter h
as s
woo
ped
dow
n w
ithou
t war
ning
: sc
hool
’s ou
t, ro
ads
shut
dow
n,ho
t cho
cola
te s
imm
erin
g on
the
stov
e.
As
I car
ry th
e fl o
wer
pot
into
the
hous
e
to w
here
Oliv
ia’s fi n
gers
are
cas
cadi
ng d
own
the
keyb
oard
,I w
ant t
he fl
ower
s to
hea
r her
arp
eggi
os
glid
ing
into
the
open
ing
of “
Com
e Sa
il A
way
” by
Sty
x,to
exp
erie
nce
the
beau
ty o
f her
mus
ic.
Her
bro
ther
s, s
ittin
g at
the
kitc
hen
tabl
e, a
re a
rgui
ng
over
a g
ame
of R
isk.
I w
ant t
he fl
ower
s to
kno
w
I am
sav
ing
them
from
the
unce
rtai
nty
of th
e fu
ture
.Th
ese
gera
nium
s ca
n liv
e in
my
hous
e, fo
reve
r.
Scot
t Coy
kend
all
Aft
er h
ouse
pai
ntin
g, I
drea
m m
y de
ad b
roth
er
com
es in
a ro
wbo
at
Aw
ake
and
unab
le to
rem
embe
r wha
t he
said
, I d
rift
thro
ugh
the
hous
e, s
till s
crub
bing
the
stub
born
pai
nt fr
om m
y ha
nds,
coo
king
egg
s,
wat
chin
g m
y da
ught
ers fl o
aton
thei
r lav
ende
r she
ets.
In th
e cl
ear l
ight
of th
e ki
tche
n, I
see
that
he
and
his
boat
wer
e be
hind
me
all d
ay, y
este
rday
:th
ere
whi
le I
haul
ed p
aint
up
the
ladd
ers,
ther
e w
hile
I ha
uled
ladd
ers
arou
nd th
e ho
use.
He
didn
’t ca
ll ou
t. H
e di
dn’t
pitc
h in
.
I do
the
wor
k of
livi
ng, g
ettin
g on
with
it. H
e sh
adow
s m
e.Th
at’s
the
way
he
alw
ays
turn
s up
—so
qui
etly
a d
ay o
r a
mon
th o
r a d
ecad
e m
ay p
ass
befo
re I
rem
embe
r he’
s st
andi
ng b
etw
een
me
and
the
sun.
Wen
dy T
aylo
r Car
lisle
How
It W
as I t
ell y
ou, h
e us
ed to
ligh
t me
up.
We
drov
e th
at ro
ad li
ke it
was
a fo
ur la
ne.
We
drov
e th
e fo
ur-la
ne li
ke it
was
a ro
ad to
jubi
latio
n. T
hat h
ard
tarm
ac pa
ved
our w
ay to
joy.
But
one
day
I cam
e aw
ake
and
whe
n he
cal
led,
my
thro
at c
lose
d ag
ains
t his
nam
e.“W
rong
num
ber,”
I sa
id, t
hink
ing,
wha
t non
sens
e ca
n st
and
in fo
r lov
eno
w I
see
pass
ion
is o
nly
pain
by a
noth
er n
ame?
I’m
hal
f-co
nvin
ced
amou
r cou
ld ju
st a
s w
ell b
e a
fast
car
, a
BM
W, a
Por
sche
but
I’d
sett
le fo
r a F
iat o
r a K
ia,
any
kind
of c
ar th
ey d
on’t
mak
e he
re.
John
Sw
eet
poem
like
the
fade
d he
arts
of m
arty
rs
the
min
otau
r in
his
laby
rinth
,w
hich
is a
s it
shou
ld b
e,an
d al
l the
shi
ps lo
st a
t sea
the
plan
esw
hich
dis
appe
ar
turn
up
agai
nhu
ndre
ds o
f mile
s aw
ayin
a th
ousa
nd s
mok
ing
piec
esan
d ev
eryo
ne d
ead
eve
ryon
e de
ad
so m
any
bells
to ri
ng a
ndno
ne o
f the
m m
ake
any
soun
d at
all
John
Sw
eet
note
s on
the
aft
erm
ath
and
then
aft
eryo
ur lo
ver’s
sui
cide
you
spen
d a
year
pai
ntin
gno
thin
g bu
t dea
th
you
dig
tunn
els
that
go
now
here
fi ll t
hem
with
bro
ken
glas
s
with
the
splin
tere
dte
eth
of s
tran
gers
leav
e th
e do
or a
t the
end
of
the
hall
open
inca
se th
e ho
use
begi
ns to
fall
Wen
dy T
aylo
r Car
lisle
Som
brer
o
Mag
gie’
s re
dnec
k hu
sban
d w
as re
lent
less
whe
n he
foun
d th
e fa
t man
’s le
tter
sab
out M
aggi
e’s
thig
hs a
nd b
reas
ts.
In e
veni
ngs
of io
n an
d su
spic
ion,
the
win
d bl
ewth
e st
ars
arou
nd o
ver t
heir
valle
yan
d th
e m
oon
cam
e up
and
shi
ned
the
catt
lew
hile
the
lake
mov
ed li
ke a
fi sh
rode
o. B
ut w
hen
spea
king
of b
etra
yal,
ther
e is
bar
ely
anyt
hing
new
to s
ay,
noth
ing
nove
l abo
ut in
fi del
ity,
noth
ing
cutt
ing
edge
abo
ut a
blo
nd h
airs
tyle
whi
ch a
s w
e kn
ow, i
s no
thin
g bu
t a
wild
som
brer
o, a
glow
abo
ve y
our o
rdin
ary,
car
bon-
base
d lif
e.
Don
ald
Illic
h
The
Kno
wn
Fire
s
One
bur
ned
on to
p of
a m
ount
ain,
neve
r goi
ng o
ut, c
onst
antly
hit
by th
e go
ds’ l
ight
ning
, in
plac
eof
zap
ping
ano
ther
des
ervi
ng m
orta
l.
Ano
ther
sm
oked
on
a se
a of
oil,
whi
ch th
ey’d
nev
er b
e ab
le to
cle
an,
load
ing
the
sky
with
sm
og a
nd g
as.
A h
undr
ed s
inge
d th
e op
en p
lain
s,
eatin
g th
e gr
ass
that
bar
ely
held
the
dirt
toge
ther
thro
ugh
the
win
ds.
And
a h
undr
ed m
ore
lit th
e da
rkne
ssin
a to
wn
mad
e of
lam
ps a
nd p
ropa
ne,
smel
ling
the
scen
t of f
umes
eve
ryw
here
.B
ut it
was
the
smal
lest
bla
ze th
at le
ft
its m
ark,
fed
by b
irds,
con
sum
ing
hous
es,
killi
ng th
ose
who
wai
ted
too
long
to e
scap
e.
That
was
a fl
ame
wor
th w
orsh
ipin
g.th
at e
ven
the
heav
ens
wou
ld w
atch
,
hopi
ng it
did
not
reac
h th
eir g
ates
,w
ishi
ng w
e co
uld
extin
guis
h it
tota
lly.
Mat
thew
S. P
arso
ns
Hon
ky T
onka
I slip
ped
a cu
rve
swer
ved
on a
cou
ntry
road
and
saw
a lo
ad o
f bus
ters
fl ust
ered
and
fi gh
ting
at a
nig
ht ti
me
stop
with
a c
oupl
e ra
g to
ps s
lopp
ed o
ver t
o th
e si
deof
the
park
ing
lot
The
danc
e ha
ll st
alle
d w
ith a
ll th
e bi
g tr
ucks
tuck
ed in
to ti
ny s
pace
sde
face
d w
ith b
ulky
bod
ies
bad
mile
age
and
sila
ge s
ittin
g in
the
driv
ers
seat
s
Men
wer
e cr
eepi
ng o
n th
e st
reet
prea
chin
g at
the
air
and
pairi
ng th
eir b
anne
d bo
urbo
n w
ith p
urpl
e pi
llsTh
ey w
ere
silly
old
boy
s ac
ting
like
youn
g on
esfu
mbl
ing
for fi
rst i
n a
sand
box
box
ing
mat
chTh
en th
ey le
ft th
eir t
oys
in th
e di
rtan
d sl
ippe
d in
side
to fl
irt w
ith a
ll th
e ol
der w
omen
who
sin
ning
won
’t ab
ide
best
leav
e th
at s
tuff
outs
ide
Mat
thew
S. P
arso
ns
Betc
ha D
idn’
t
I bet
you
did
n’t k
now
your
unc
le w
as a
n un
dert
aker
Man
he
done
took
und
er m
ore
men
than
any
man
had
a
right
toif
any
man
had
a ri
ght t
o an
yway
Yeah
, may
be h
e dr
ank
a lit
tleM
aybe
it g
ot to
him
May
be h
e sp
ent l
ast F
riday
w
alki
ng a
roun
d th
e tr
ee in
his
fron
t yar
dw
ith a
rifl e
sho
utin
g ou
t for
God
and
eve
rybo
dy to
hea
r“D
amn
it I’v
e tr
eed
you
now
you
coo
ny s
on o
f a b
iscu
it!”
I gue
ss a
per
son
coul
d im
agin
e he
foun
d hi
s w
ayup
in th
at tr
ee a
fter
that
coo
nan
d fe
ll ou
tK
illed
his
self
the
poor
bas
tard
And
may
be h
e di
dM
aybe
he
was
n’t a
ll th
ere
But
I be
t you
did
n’t k
now
he
was
toug
h ne
ither
I bet
you
did
n’t k
now
he
chew
ed c
oal l
ike
cud
Whe
n yo
u sa
t up
stra
ight
in th
e sa
ddle
on y
our h
igh
hors
ean
d he
was
laye
d up
in
his
hom
emad
e co
ffi n
betc
ha d
idn’
t kno
w h
e sp
it fi r
e
Don
ald
Illic
h
Whe
re t
he C
hild
Bel
ongs
Som
e sa
y he
cou
ld b
e ra
ised
up
by h
is m
othe
r tow
ard
the
sky,
so
all i
n th
e vi
llage
cou
ld s
ee h
is h
eigh
t, po
wer
. Th
ey’ll
bow
bef
ore
him
, ha
ndin
g ov
er a
ssor
ted
gift
s to
him
,
from
pow
ders
to d
iam
onds
. O
ther
s vi
ew h
im a
s a
devi
l see
d, w
ho s
houl
d be
left
on
a m
ount
ain
to b
e de
vour
ed
by a
lion
. Th
ey d
on’t
wan
t to
nam
e hi
m,
for f
ear t
hat h
e m
ight
gai
n fro
m w
ords
,
enab
ling
him
to c
harm
oth
er c
hild
ren
to h
is c
ause
. W
hat h
e is
to h
imse
lf no
one
kno
ws;
he
seem
s in
noce
nt,
but p
erha
ps h
e’s
too
blam
eles
s.
He
talk
s to
ani
mal
s in
thei
r lan
guag
e,
but h
e so
meh
ow fo
rget
s th
e sp
eech
of
cro
ws
and
buzz
ards
. M
ost a
gree
he s
houl
d be
rais
ed in
a n
orm
al h
ome,
w
here
he’
ll le
arn
how
to re
ad a
nd m
ow
the
gras
s, n
ail b
oard
s an
d dr
ive
a ca
r.
If w
e fi n
d an
y da
nger
, it w
ill b
e fro
m
our o
ccas
iona
l vis
its a
s un
cles
, aun
ts.
We
look
clo
sely
for s
igns
on
his
body
, a
wen
or a
num
ber.
We
belie
ve w
e’ll
know
a m
onst
er w
hen
we
spot
one
.
Lain
e K
uehn
Twili
ght
The
haw
k co
mes
for t
he ja
y, s
wee
ping
infro
m th
e so
uthe
ast w
hite
pin
e.H
er s
hado
w tr
avel
s br
iefl y
ove
r sno
wbe
fore
it is
sw
allo
wed
by
dark
ness
mad
e bl
uer b
y du
sk.
The
man
at t
he w
indo
w,
one
hand
hid
den
in a
dis
hclo
th,
does
not
see
wha
t hap
pens
—on
ly th
e sh
adow
mov
ing,
the
prec
ise
desc
ent.
An
impe
rfec
t, go
lden
tape
stry
spill
s fro
m th
e ki
tche
n w
indo
w in
to th
e di
mne
ss,
whe
re it
see
ms
as th
ough
not
hing
is m
ovin
gbu
t bra
nche
s.
It is
qui
et fo
r a ti
me
both
insi
de a
nd o
utsi
de th
e ho
use.
Kar
en J
une
Ols
on
Voic
e Le
sson
s fr
om a
Writ
ing
Clas
s
She
had
forg
otte
n he
r arm
or,
hid
behi
nd v
eils
of a
ddic
tion,
rela
pse,
an
d cr
ashe
d ca
rs. O
nly
the
wal
l clo
ck
spok
e w
ith lo
ud ti
ckin
g se
cond
s.
I won
dere
d if
she
care
d le
ss
for p
oem
s an
d m
ore
for r
azor
s to
sha
rpen
her
voi
ce.
In th
e va
lley
a di
rty
win
d sw
irled
. If I
follo
wed
he
r to
the
river
—
wou
ld s
he k
eep
her d
ress
, le
ave
her b
oots
in th
e re
eds,
cra
dle
ston
es?
Riv
ers
spea
k st
orie
s in
wat
er.
I cou
ldn’
t hea
r w
hat s
he h
ad le
ft to
say
.
Kar
en J
une
Ols
on
A R
iver
A ri
ver s
nake
s lo
wla
nds,
gat
hers
ra
in a
nd w
ind
blow
n se
eds,
ferr
ies
folk
s an
d su
mm
er p
icni
cs,
a fi s
hing
pol
e, a
kay
ak,
child
ren
who
will
leap
off
a do
ck.
But
a ri
ver i
s no
t a
drea
m—
it’s
our f
athe
rs h
omem
ade
stew
, che
mic
al
plan
ts, t
he g
arba
ge b
arge
, and
wee
d-fre
e fi e
lds
wav
ing
grai
n.
Ther
e’s
a hu
sh in
the
hous
e w
here
the
card
s ar
e de
alt—
wha
t glo
wle
aks
from
the
land
fi ll?
All
thin
gs ru
n al
l thi
ngs
run
dow
n to
the
river
.
We
forg
et
wha
t is
draw
n fro
m th
e fa
ucet
.
Lain
e K
uehn
With
out
Kee
ning
Like
silk
be
ing
draw
n ov
er a
bod
yin
the
dark
, the
grie
f com
es.
Not
eve
n th
e ve
ery’
s ca
ll w
ith it
s hu
ndre
d fr
agile
fi ng
ers
can
pull
it as
ide.
The
sou
nd fi
lls th
e tr
ees,
ro
lls a
long
them
like
two
whi
te m
arbl
esdo
wn
a gl
ass
funn
el.
The
silk
sm
ells
slig
htly
sw
eet:
card
amom
and
hon
ey.
It is
feat
her-l
ight
. It
is s
o lo
ngit
coul
d w
rap
arou
nd a
thou
sand
bod
ies
and
still
trai
l int
o th
e se
a.
Eliz
abet
h La
ndru
m
Laye
rs in
the
litt
er
i Ther
e is
poe
try
hidd
en in
the
litte
r.If
I sta
y st
ill lo
ng e
noug
h, a
thirs
t w
ill ta
ke m
e th
ere
— T
ouch
falle
n fe
athe
rs lo
ng fo
rgot
ten
by th
e ow
l, riv
er-t
umbl
ed s
tone
s, o
ne fi
nger
of a
bat
win
g,m
ound
of s
ilver
lich
en c
uddl
ed w
ith tw
igs,
hone
ycom
bed
bone
of a
ntle
r she
d fro
mits
ped
icle
, jus
t aft
er th
e ve
lvet
with
ered
.Re
mem
ber
the
times
you
car
ried
my
pack
,he
lped
me
cros
s ru
shin
g st
ream
s on
a lo
g.
ii Sure
ly y
ou k
now
that
I, to
o, h
ave
curs
ed
the
youn
g bu
ck th
at ru
tted
on
rose
mar
y sh
rubs
, be
caus
e th
ey w
ere
min
e, a
nd I
had
plan
s.
And
I ha
ve s
corn
ed th
e ba
t in
my
raft
ers
beca
use
I fel
t fea
r, th
ough
I di
dn’t
know
why
.Ye
t I h
ave
wel
com
ed th
e ec
hoes
of o
wls
,as
if th
ey w
ere
give
n to
exp
and
us,
and
I nev
er b
elie
ved
a tr
ee w
ould
not
ice
its m
issi
ng p
iece
s, n
ever
kne
w th
at m
y bo
ots
wou
ld m
atte
r to
the
liche
n-co
vere
d ro
ck.
Jam
es M
iller
Two
App
roac
hes
to D
ead
Tim
e
i The
trai
n to
Chi
cago
,on
the
Sout
h Sh
ore
Line
from
Ham
mon
d—
you’
re h
obbl
ing
past
har
row
edho
useh
olds
, slo
w e
noug
hto
look
aga
in.
But
don
’t. O
ne g
lanc
ew
ill c
all d
own
the fl a
mes
,m
elt s
win
gset
s to
hol
y so
nnet
s.
ii Wal
-Mar
t par
king
lot,
8:32
PM
, sco
ring
isop
ropy
l and
app
licat
ors
for t
he s
how
.B
lack
car
: its
low
eng
ine
thin
as
met
ro p
opco
rn s
ludg
e.H
e ra
ttle
s an
d st
ops
ten
feet
aw
ay,
slam
s an
d st
ands
. G
un, o
r gur
n?
Two
hand
fuls
of h
eike
gani
bur
p fro
m h
is b
owel
s, s
catt
er a
mon
gm
onst
er tr
ucks
and
Chr
istm
as c
arts
.
Jam
es M
iller
Aug
ust
2017
On
inau
gura
tion
day,
I pr
omis
ed a
poe
m
ever
y Tu
esda
y,
for t
he d
urat
ion.
The
four
teen
that
follo
wed
?
Last
nig
ht’s
sirlo
inle
ft a
sta
in in
the
cent
erof
our
favo
rite
pan.
Ther
e is
no
sign
of t
he fr
ogs
that
live
d un
der t
he h
edge
early
this
sum
mer
.
Wou
ld th
at I
coul
d fe
edth
e w
asps
, fi ll
up
thei
r maw
s w
ith fr
ay a
nd tr
ace:
pa
per f
or th
eir c
ozy
nest
s.
Year
s ag
o I h
eard
the
Qua
kers
say
:
Woe
unt
o th
e bl
oody
city
of
Lic
hfi e
ld!
I wou
ld a
sk fo
r les
s.
A ru
stlin
g an
d a
supp
ing.
Bee
tles
drow
sed
in th
eir g
loam
ing
dam
p.
iii Yes,
I ha
ve s
wal
low
ed m
ore
wel
l- po
lishe
d lie
s,no
w s
tone
s in
my
thro
at, a
nd I
have
com
e to
love
a
stor
e of
thin
gs th
at lo
oked
like
our
s fo
r the
taki
ng.
How
har
d to
unr
avel
the
pass
ed-d
own
lines
twis
ted
into
eve
ry s
inew
and
syn
apse
. How
har
d to
envi
sion
this
pla
net w
here
the
ones
who
are
gon
e ar
e th
e on
es w
ho w
ere
gift
ed w
ith m
inds
th
at c
ould
pla
n an
d im
agin
e, o
utla
sted
by
thos
e w
ho c
ould
not
spe
ak
thei
r poe
try
in w
ords
. Li
sten
as tr
ees
carr
y on
thei
r con
vers
atio
nsin
sile
nce
. If w
e le
ave
it, th
e lic
hen
will
last
,tu
rnin
g st
one
into
soi
l so
som
ethi
ng e
lse
mig
ht g
row
. B
ats
will
ada
pt a
s th
ey h
ave
for m
illio
ns o
f yea
rs. O
wls
will
stil
l fl y
w
ith m
issi
ng fe
athe
rs.
Ant
lers
will
thic
ken,
br
anch
, the
n sh
ed a
gain
. Wha
t is
lost
w
ill b
e fo
rgot
ten,
whi
le a
ll th
at re
mai
n w
ill g
o on
mak
ing
mor
e of
them
selv
es
for a
s lo
ng a
s th
ey c
an
iv Som
e tim
e be
fore
our
fi na
l apo
logi
esw
hen
we
are
no lo
nger
lulle
d in
to b
elie
ving
that
we
can
own
the
futu
re, l
et g
rief
beco
me
our l
ulla
by, a
nd h
ope
be re
defi n
ed.
Let u
s pr
olon
g pe
ace,
if
not o
ur s
peci
es, a
nd n
ot fo
rget
the
laye
rs
left
lyin
g in
the
litte
r. A
tten
d to
wha
t mat
ters
—th
e m
usic
of w
ater
,pa
tter
ns in
a fe
athe
r, a
circ
le o
f han
ds
arou
nd th
e fa
ding
fi re
.
Eliz
abet
h La
ndru
m
Mic
hael
Lau
chla
n Fo
rtun
e
She
told
me
how
they
’d la
ugh,
lo
okin
g ba
ck a
t us
shop
ping
for c
ars
or h
ats
as n
eigh
bors
are
pile
d in
to v
ans
and
hust
led
out o
f sig
ht.
Whe
n I a
sked
if w
e m
ight
rem
ain
invi
sibl
e, s
he to
ok
a th
ough
tful
dra
g an
d sm
iled
unbr
ight
ly, a
whi
ff of
sm
oke
seep
ing
from
her
gow
n. R
easo
nsw
ill d
rain
from
us,
she
sai
d,lik
e bl
ood
from
a h
eadl
ess
bird
.
Mic
hael
Lau
chla
n
Yeat
s Ca
lls
poet
ry a
qua
rrel
with
the
self.
Whe
n I a
rgue
with
my
love
r,
I see
an
eyeb
row
rise
and
long
to
take
her
sid
e ag
ains
t my
own.
She
hold
s in
turn
wor
lds
with
in.
How
can
I ig
nore
chi
ldre
n
tryi
ng to
boa
rd a
trai
n, th
ose
her e
yes fi n
d fi r
st a
s th
ey c
ling
to a
mot
her’s
coa
t? I
can’
t mis
she
r rag
e at
men
who
dis
inhe
rit
the
mee
k. H
ow c
an I
igno
re—
that
wom
an s
ittin
g th
ere—
wha
t bre
aks
a st
anza
’s he
art?
wha
t lig
hts
an ia
mb’
s fu
se?