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The Return Author(s): John Forbes Source: The Iowa Review, Vol. 28, No. 3 (Winter, 1998), p. 23 Published by: University of Iowa Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/20154638 . Accessed: 17/06/2014 20:53 Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at . http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp . JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact [email protected]. . University of Iowa is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to The Iowa Review. http://www.jstor.org This content downloaded from 188.72.126.88 on Tue, 17 Jun 2014 20:53:55 PM All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

The Return

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Page 1: The Return

The ReturnAuthor(s): John ForbesSource: The Iowa Review, Vol. 28, No. 3 (Winter, 1998), p. 23Published by: University of IowaStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/20154638 .

Accessed: 17/06/2014 20:53

Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at .http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp

.JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range ofcontent in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new formsof scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact [email protected].

.

University of Iowa is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to The Iowa Review.

http://www.jstor.org

This content downloaded from 188.72.126.88 on Tue, 17 Jun 2014 20:53:55 PMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

Page 2: The Return

The Return

I often dream about the ocean

and would like to write

a long ode to water, because I live

on a drought stricken flood plain next to a sea where a baked delta

opens between glittering sandstone cliffs

& the dunes and beaches make holiday resorts

seem like colonies in outer space.

Where are the green islands? Where are

the sticky hibiscus flowers,

the paddocks full of clover and grass,

the intricate mangrove swamps

& the mud that squelches between your toes?

Instead I am covered in salt?

the same brother you forgot whose wounds were like rumours

of the rains' failure

but who returns even so, just as the wet arrives

after weeks of dry storm lightning out to sea

& who stands in front of you

dressed in his flash city clothes

but suddenly shy, like a stranger embarrassed

by wet footprints and tears

& the sudden atmosphere of drama.

23

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