by Brad Leithauser

Nightfall

Article Tools

sponsored by:

	E-mail Article
	Printer Format

In Iceland, in early January,
when dusk begins at dawn,
alone in a wind-whipped shack,
I kneel as though cowering
before my little stove door.
Nights are immense, and my coal is black
as night.
     A geologist
in his lab might be able to say,
within a million years or so, just
when and where the coal’s towering
source-plants were laid down;
I only know, while waiting for
the room to warm, it was very
long ago, and far away.

Article Tools sponsored by:

E-mail Article Printer Format

Digg del.icio.us

reddit What's this?

What do you think? Discuss this article in Post & Riposte.

Subscribe to our e-mail newsletter.

Search