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Water moved one way.
You dug.

For outer space
the body learns to move

like a painter
seeing the unseen.

When you buried her
away from you, the river

moved one way.
Christ was in the tree.



Laurie Lamon’s poems have appeared in The Atlantic, New Republic, Arts & Letters, Plume, Ploughshares, North American Review, and others. Her two poetry collections are The Fork Without Hunger and Without Wings (both from CavanKerry). Recipient of a Pushcart Prize, she was selected by Donald Hall as a Witter Bynner Fellow.


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