Poem of the Day
Consecutive Preterite
By Jessica Laser
That summer I learned Biblical Hebrew / with Christian women heaving themselves / toward ministry one brick building at a time.
That summer I learned Biblical Hebrew / with Christian women heaving themselves / toward ministry one brick building at a time.
You were always a stray and grating
Stiff-necked lot, I am sure of it; graceless,
And nothing loose about your hands.
Illusions of the moonlight, pale processions
Of spirits wandering among the trees...
Cries and accusations and confessions...
Rock reproduces rock
In miniature
On rock
The movement of my body when I wake,
Hinge of my arm, the shift of hand and throat,
Reminds me there was something for your sake
The seascape shifts
Between the minutest interstices of time
Blue is blue.
Four easy hours from San Francisco, yes
The sitting mallards tip like steel-plate ducks;
Between them, clay-pipe fishes leap and pop
Mother is gone. Bird songs wouldn’t let her breathe.
The skating bug broke through the eternal veil.
A tree in the forest fell; the air remembered.
Up the reputable walks of old established trees
They stalk, children of the nouveaux riches; chimes
Of the tall Clock Tower drench their heads in blessing
A dream of battle on a windy night
Has wakened him. The shadows move once more
With rumors of alarm.
This is the one that will outlive us all
With her head in the same duster and her small
Mouth maybe puckering in a bit more