Menu

Poetry

Names of killed troops scroll on the screen
and an opening peony mouths the mute sound
of letters flapping beyond the window pane.
A thousand messages script the air
while I let out a bee razzing at the window.
His furred back bobs away
like a small cycling postman.
White letters of silence overflow
his sack, flying letters I can read
only as they wing away and I puzzle
the heft of this unworded day—

Day greens like a parrot, swarms
in an incomprehensible flow. I skid the surf
of exploding verbs. Last night I heard hints of the coming
day in a branch tapping on a drainpipe.
What matters is the letters
delivered in the space after the period.
A message clear beyond the wavering
glass: love-alone, love-alone.


The Image archive is supported in part by an award from the National Endowment for the Arts.

To experience the full archive, log in or subscribe now.

Related Poetry

Sweet Life

By

Scott Cairns

it is dusk: we see water, deep maroon with black shadows crested on the underside of shelled waves,. a boat lit up with gold lights and steaming smoke into the mauve-dusky sky casts bands of gold and glittering lights on the path of the water, leaves a dark shadow behind it. the shore is a black band of shadows.

Passage

By

Jeff Gundy

Temple Tomb

By

Lisa Russ Spaar

The Taste of Eden

By

Valerie Wohlfeld

Pin It on Pinterest