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And suddenly I’ve never been
anywhere. Reposed in no prior history, the snow falls.

I make a place for him here,
by the fire, and lie beside me in fallowland

——–—crossed through with tramps’ tracks wandering
——–—lost at even these short spans—

beneath Andromeda, distant
Amtrak, warblers
——————-—sweep the fields for locust and cage

searching from Canterbury, Wittenberg—

——–—to Kansas City and the rooftop
——————-—of his mother’s house,

emptied on the altar
of a chapel where the wind blows through,

in a place where I might meet you. The train goes on.



Taylor Supplee earned his MFA from Columbia, where he served as the Lucie Brock-Broido Teaching Fellow. His poems are forthcoming and have appeared in Baltimore Review, Foothill Poetry Journal, Hotel Amerika, Hunger Mountain, The Moth, Penn Review, phoebe, Quiddity, Rattle, and elsewhere.




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