Peter Leight Poems



Looking Back From the Vanishing Point 


Spreading like an estuary, the lines move away from each other, moving apart, as if they need to spend some time apart.  A delta fanning out, the V-shaped folds not squeezed or squished together.  Portions increase in size.  There are plenty of choices, an increasing number—when you don’t see something it doesn’t mean there’s nothing there.  People move in and check out, unpacking, unzipping their zippers, isn’t this what love requires?  Moving away from where they were—they’re looking for something they don’t even know about.   The roles are still developing, opening up, letting themselves out the way you let out a garment, I think they’re going to splurge. 





Peter Leight lives in Amherst, Massachusetts.  He has previously published poems in Paris Review, Partisan Review, AGNI, Western Humanities Review, Cincinnati Review, Seneca Review, The Southampton Review, Cimarron, Hubbub, and other magazines




Archived at



Copyright respective authors and Konundrum Engine