By Julia Guez

A cistern full of asters,

notes from the split–risk ward

above the lindens tops of poplars wave

in the long light, an agitation of birds.

What they fever after, I have fevered after—

in tight swaths—circling the only one who makes

all the seasons more beautiful than they really are.

Coming now to the place where no word is

apt, parting.

Videlock for Coe1 hi

Wendy Videlock, Chaco Canyon, photograph

Related Posts

Poetry by Tara Stringfellow
An Interview with Apogee Journal Issue 7 Contributor, JP Howard
Apogee is Recipient of 2016 NYSCA Grant

Leave a Reply