After So Many YearsLast night I dreamed that starlings flew
past the windows, massing in the trees.
Like something from Ezekiel, you said.
I partly understood the tongues they spoke in.
This morning, lightning flickers in the hills.
Hornets fling themselves against the glass.
Something living rattles in the walls.
The book falls open to the word 'desire.'
How does the dowsing-rod know when to shake?
How does lightning know which oak to crack?
Daylight binds the fire in my limbs
to distances and so much open air.
Anne Shaw**************
Hear it read by the poet here:
http://www.fishousepoems.org/archives/anne_shaw/after_so_many_years.shtmlAnne Shaw is the author of Undertow (2007), winner of the Lexi Rudnitsky Poetry Prize from Persea Books. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in journals including New American Writing, Hayden's Ferry Review, Gulf Coast, New Ohio Review, and Subtropics. A recipient of a Gertrude Stein Award from Green Integer Press and a finalist for the Colorado Poetry Prize, she is assistant professor of English at Franklin Pierce University. **************
:hi:
RL