Today's poem is by Beth Bachmann
Sometimes, after snow, you find yourself in a field
of laughing gulls shaken and spat in a mass kill
and your boots are the only noise. It's like a bad joke
I cannot resist telling. Enough. Hunger is plenty.
Everything is dangerous. New moon, the red fox
is out walking. Extinction is nothing to the sea
other than exhaustion. Sometimes, it's a sand dune,
but even after storm, water's never silent. Rest
easy. Those sounds can't be human.
Copyright © 2014 Beth Bachmann All rights reserved
from Do Not Rise
University of Pittsburgh Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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