Poetry Fiction 2010

Viewshed

A twenty-inch feather with black bars. Stones I’ve picked up.
An acorn with its cap beside it like a cup.

Chunks of gypsum from a mine I explored,
a postcard of a heron—eye glittering, not bored.

Pens and pencils nestled in a metal box.
A magnifying glass for peering at flowers and rocks.

A clump of lichen, gray-blue, smelling like smoke.
One pressed leaf with a black spot—from an eighty-foot oak.

Dusty gold wing of a half-eaten moth—
so slender it wriggled in, hid under a cloth.

A three-pronged branch tip—with unopened buds.
Whatever ripe swelling, they ended up duds.

Ahead through the glass stand our woods going bare—
pine needles, dappled ground, color smearing the air.

Presented by

The Best 71-Second Animation You'll Watch Today

A rock monster tries to save a village from destruction.

Join the Discussion

After you comment, click Post. If you’re not already logged in you will be asked to log in or register.

blog comments powered by Disqus

Video

The Best 71-Second Animation You'll Watch Today

A rock monster tries to save a village from destruction.

Video

The Case for Napping at Work

Most Americans don't get enough sleep. More and more employers are trying to help address that.

Video

A Four-Dimensional Tour of Boston

In this groundbreaking video, time moves at multiple speeds within a single frame.

Video

Who Made Pop Music So Repetitive? You Did.

If pop music is too homogenous, that's because listeners want it that way.

Video

Stunning GoPro Footage of a Wildfire

In the field with America’s elite Native American firefighting crew
More back issues, Sept 1995 to present.

Just In