Saturday, September 10, 2022

Zach Savich

 


If the dead have preferences they must prefer the future tense

Will you be sitting by a window in this year
As though asking affirms

What wouldn’t they affirm
Shirt hung for a curtain

Having washed it in the sink each night
My ship will be the turning one

Its sail is shining rain

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

Natasha Trethewey

  Elegy For the Native Guard                                         Now that the salt of their blood       Stiffens the saltier oblivion of...