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River Walk
(Before the Flood)
A short
walk glance left to the riverbank
where dark
grasses edge the water’s eddy
not frozen
now where great willows shadow
White Trout
Lily submerged American
Lotus
submerged rubble submerged wreck of
the dorm or
honeycomb submerged in light
threading
white mire to dankly mangled shores
A short
walk glance left but turn I to the right
Step to the
corner of Church a girl
at the bus
stop shifts her weight with bag to
wave across
the street arc broken by scat-
tered
mid-morning traffic I know
every
breath of
it Air in the sky unpeeling
we see
cinnamon skin of a River
Birch
not No more rime on the limb
no more
frost
between bricks I skim this way to work
each
morning stalking titles staked in soil
signs
saying Mayflower north find a Sea-
shore south
the map remains unspoiled
Still see
the river
has not yet risen I’d swear
nothing’s
drowned It is not such a
sorry
fate to be the last stranger in this
town.
*
Anchor
Footing
fails over the slightest ache in
the arc of
an aerial
root We notice not
the
mirroring of gnarled
systems
underground but we have seen the
drawings Know there are pores for
breathing Know there are
furious
eddies of struc-
ture that
refuse to anchor They suffer
no
nodes We were just a child
once Now there is this
liminal
design inside
Soon it
will pass in the form of a wan
wandering
fog through our thoughts
Here we
rest in the
presence of
new cells decay-
ing &
new cells splitting forth at disas-
trous
speeds as most things— una-
ccounted
for We were
just a
child once & now suff-
er bole
wrists profoundly brittle
When re-
lieved of
this remaining strife
who
recovers the
next rotten architecture.
**
Caryl Pagel's poems and essays appear or are forthcoming in 1913: A
Journal
of Forms, MAKE Magazine, notnostrums, and Thermos. Her chapbook, Visions,
Crisis Apparitions, and Other Exceptional Experiences, is available from
Factory Hollow
Press.

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