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| woods (M.A. Reilly, 2013 North Carolina) |
- by Louise Glück
Fish bones walked the waves off Hatteras.
And there were other signs
That Death wooed us, by water, wooed us
By land: among the pines
An uncurled cottonmouth that rolled on moss
Reared in the polluted air.
Birth, not death, is the hard loss.
I know. I also left a skin there.
Re-read. Process. Re-read. Process and repeat.
ReplyDeleteThere's a lot there in such a brief poem. It's one reason I enjoy the poet. Her surprising stances inform.
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