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
——————-—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.