2RV

23.4

(Sum

mer

201

9)

2Riv

erw

ww.

2Riv

er.o

rg74

74 D

rexe

l DR

• Un

iver

sity

City

• M

O •

631

30 •

USA

The

2Riv

er V

iew

23.4

(Sum

mer

201

9)

new

poe

ms

byB

ree

A. R

olfe

, Ish

anee

Cha

nda

Har

ley

Ana

stas

ia C

hapm

an, C

harle

s Fi

nnSu

san

L. L

eary

, Cam

eron

Mor

seSa

rah

A. S

ousa

, Tra

vis

Step

hens

Tayl

or D

. War

ing,

Ric

hard

Wea

ver

Hol

lyw

ood

Bea

ch, F

lorid

a, a

nd P

alm

s ©

201

9 by

Jan

Mat

son

The

2Riv

er V

iew

, 23.

4 (S

umm

er 2

019)

Abo

ut 2

Rive

r

Sinc

e 19

96, 2

Rive

r has

bee

n a

site

of p

oetr

y an

d ar

t, qu

arte

rly p

ublis

hing

The

2Ri

ver V

iew

and

occ

asio

nally

pu

blis

hing

indi

vidu

al a

utho

rs in

the

2Riv

er C

hapb

ook

Serie

s. 2

Rive

r is

also

the

hom

e of

Mud

dy B

ank,

the

2Riv

er

blog

.

Rich

ard

Long

2Riv

er

ISSN

153

6-20

86w

ww

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The

2Riv

er V

iew

23.4

(Sum

mer

201

9)

The

2Riv

er V

iew

, 23.

4 (S

umm

er 2

019)

Cont

ents

Bre

e A

. Rol

feA

lita

ny o

f bad

dec

isio

ns

Isha

nee

Cha

nda

The

Jour

ney

to th

e C

ente

r of t

he E

arth

Mirr

or

Har

ley

Ana

stas

ia C

hapm

anH

awkm

othe

rLi

fe S

tudy

Cha

rles

Finn

Mor

ning

Cof

fee

Som

ewhe

re

Color of Summer © 2019 by Jan Matson

Cam

eron

Mor

se is

the

auth

or o

f Fal

l Ris

k, w

on G

lass

Lyr

e Pr

ess’s

201

8 B

est B

ook

Aw

ard,

and

Fat

her M

e A

gain

(Spa

rtan

Pre

ss).

The

chap

book

Com

ing

Hom

e w

ith C

ance

ris

fort

hcom

ing

from

Blu

e Ly

ra P

ress

.

Bre

e A

. Rol

fe h

as a

ppea

red

in 5

AM

, Cho

rus:

A L

itera

ry

Mix

tape

, and

Red

pain

t Hill

Ant

holo

gy M

othe

r is

a Ve

rb.

Sara

h So

usa

is th

e au

thor

of S

ee th

e W

olf,

Split

the

Cro

wan

d C

hurc

h of

Nee

dles

and

of t

he c

hapb

ook

Yell.

Her

po

ems

have

app

eare

d in

the

Nor

th A

mer

ican

Rev

iew

, the

So

uthe

rn P

oetr

y Re

view

, and

Tup

elo

Qua

rter

ly, a

mon

g ot

hers

. She

is o

n th

e bo

ard

of d

irect

ors

of P

erug

ia P

ress

.

Trav

is S

teph

ens

is a

sea

cap

tain

who

resi

des

in C

alifo

rnia

. Re

cent

cre

dits

incl

ude

Ape

iron

Revi

ew,

Cirq

ue,

Cro

ssw

inds

Poe

try

Jour

nal,

Dea

d M

ule

Scho

ol o

f Sou

ther

n Li

tera

ture

, Gra

vita

s, S

outh

wor

d, S

tone

boat

Rev

iew

, and

Ti

ny S

eed

Lite

rary

Jou

rnal

.

Tayl

or D

. War

ing

play

s in

the

psyc

hede

lic s

ludg

e ba

nd

Mer

lock

. War

ing

is a

lso

the

Man

agin

g Ed

itor o

f Will

ow

Sprin

gs B

ooks

.

Rich

ard

Wea

ver i

s th

e au

thor

of T

he S

tars

Und

one

(Due

nde

Pres

s). H

is p

oem

s he

re in

2Ri

ver a

re fr

om a

co

llect

ion

base

d on

the fi n

al w

ords

of f

amou

s pe

ople

, so

me

of w

hich

hav

e ap

pear

ed in

Ade

laid

e, A

fter

the

Paus

e, a

nd L

och

Rave

n Re

view

.

The

2Riv

er V

iew

, 23.

4 (S

umm

er 2

019)

Abo

ut t

he A

utho

rs

Isha

nee

Cha

nda

is a

pro

se w

riter

and

poe

t with

pu

blic

atio

ns in

a n

umbe

r of j

ourn

als.

She

has

als

o w

ritte

n tw

o bo

oks

of p

oetr

y: O

h, t

hese

wal

ls, t

hey

crum

ble

and

Th

e O

verfl

ow

.

Har

ley

Ana

stas

ia C

hapm

an h

as a

ppea

red

or is

fort

hcom

ing

in C

olum

bia

Poet

ry R

evie

w, E

uphe

mis

m, N

ot V

ery

Qui

et,

Soun

ding

s Ea

st, a

nd S

tory

scap

e Jo

urna

l,

Cha

rles

Finn

is th

e ed

itor o

f the

lite

rary

and

fi ne

art

s m

agaz

ine

Hig

h D

eser

t Jou

rnal

and

aut

hor o

f Wild

Del

icat

e Se

cond

s: 2

9 W

ildlif

e En

coun

ters

(OSU

Pre

ss 2

012)

.

Susa

n L.

Lea

ry h

as a

ppea

red

in jo

urna

ls s

uch

as T

he

Chr

istia

n C

entu

ry, G

one

Law

n, a

nd In

to th

e Vo

id. H

er

chap

book

Thi

s G

irl, Y

our D

isci

ple

is fo

rthc

omin

g fro

m

Fini

shin

g Li

ne P

ress

.

A Walk in the Sun © 2019 by Jan Matson

Susa

n L.

Lea

ryM

y B

roth

er C

an S

ay S

ome

of th

e Pr

ettie

st T

hing

sTh

e C

lean

est S

heet

of I

ce

Cam

eron

Mor

seM

issi

ssip

pi S

inga

long

Tres

pass

ing

Sara

h So

usa

The

Oth

er W

orld

Witc

h

Trav

is S

teph

ens

Traffi c

Rep

ort

Tayl

or D

. War

ing

a sn

owm

an to

abd

uct m

ea

snow

man

to w

arm

me

Rich

ard

Wea

ver

Hun

ter S

. Tho

mps

onSe

amus

Hea

ney

The

2Riv

er V

iew

, 23.

4 (S

umm

er 2

019)

Rich

ard

Wea

ver

Seam

us H

eane

y

The

mom

ent a

ppea

rs, u

nann

ounc

ed,

thou

gh I

sens

ed it

s ap

proa

ch, a

nd fe

lt

its h

and

take

min

e. Y

ou to

o w

ill k

now

this

com

fort

upo

n ex

it. I

grow

larg

er

as ti

me

colla

pses

. You

r pre

senc

e,

ever

ywhe

re in

the

room

, out

side

,

and

beyo

nd. F

illin

g m

y he

art.

My

lung

s.B

ecom

ing

the

bloo

d I w

as a

nd a

m n

ow

unbe

com

ing.

“D

o no

t be

afra

id.”

Rich

ard

Wea

ver

Hun

ter

S. T

hom

pson

I may

hav

e be

en, i

n m

y ow

n w

ords

, a to

rtur

ed m

an

for a

ll se

ason

s, b

ut it

’s in

furia

ting

to d

ie. N

ot th

atit’

s un

expe

cted

. Or e

ven

inco

nven

ient

. It’s

just

a p

isse

r.

As

Dyl

an s

ang,

an

idio

t win

d. N

ot g

onzo

. Alth

ough

I was

sup

rem

ely

piss

ed a

t my

wife

(now

ex)

at t

he ti

me.

Still

, dea

th it

is, a

nd d

ead

I mus

t be.

So,

Ow

l far

m

is a

vaila

ble.

I liv

e th

ere

afte

r all.

And

wor

se,

foot

ball

seas

on is

ove

r. Fo

r me

and

that

lova

ble

fart

Nix

on.

I kno

w h

e ev

acua

ted

earli

er. W

ork

with

me

here

. OK

?

I’m d

ying

. Rem

embe

r? T

ortu

red

as w

ell.

I won

’t ex

plai

nsh

it, e

spec

ially

the

last

thin

g I w

rote

. One

wor

d: c

ouns

elor

.A

ccor

ding

to n

o le

ss a

n au

thor

ity th

an T

he R

ollin

g St

one,

who

kin

dly

publ

ishe

d w

hat t

hey

thou

ght w

as m

y ob

it,m

y la

st w

ords

wer

e –

“Rel

ax. I

t won

’t hu

rt”.

You

empt

y a

gun

into

you

r hea

d an

d se

e if

that

mak

es se

nse?

Hel

l, ha

ving

my

ashe

s bl

aste

d ou

t of a

can

non

over

W

oody

Cre

ek c

anyo

n w

as a

wal

k in

the

godd

am p

ark.

Bre

e A

. Rol

fe

A li

tany

of b

ad d

ecis

ions

Part

One

: O

men

s

The

only

rem

aini

ng

corr

espo

nden

ce b

etw

een

the

two

of u

s— a

New

Yor

k Ti

mes

art

icle

abo

ut M

arfa

an

d a

repl

y of

yip

pee.

Jon

Kra

kaue

r’s U

nder

the

Ban

ner

of H

eave

n on

aud

iobo

ok—

M

orm

onis

m, b

lood

at

onem

ent a

six

hou

r dr

ive

thro

ugh

dese

rt.

The fi r

st g

alle

ry w

ith p

hoto

grap

hsof

Kat

rina’

s de

stru

ctio

n pa

ired

with

poe

ms

from

chi

ldre

n le

ft

in h

er w

ake.

Som

ethi

ng b

eaut

iful

repu

rpos

ed fr

om s

torm

but s

till d

estr

uctio

n.

Bre

e A

. Rol

fe

Part

Tw

o: T

ake

it A

ll B

ack,

Tak

e it

All

Bac

k

Som

e fa

rm-t

o-ta

ble

rest

aura

nt

with

a n

ame

that

invo

lved

ch

icke

n an

d el

ectr

icity

w

here

you

brin

g yo

ur o

wn

win

e.

A lo

ud ta

ble

of s

ophi

stic

ated

mid

dle-

aged

cou

ples

, tip

sy a

nd d

eep,

de

ep in

con

vers

atio

n. U

s, s

ilent

,dr

aini

ng e

very

thin

g w

e br

ough

t.

A b

ar a

fter

, a fo

lk s

inge

r on

a to

ur,

fi nis

hes

his

set a

nd w

e ta

lk

too

long

abo

ut C

lub

Pass

im.

All

of y

our d

rinks

on

my

tab—

sc

otch

es p

iled

upon

sco

tche

s.

The

coup

le s

tayi

ng in

the

apar

tmen

t ne

xt to

us:

you

tell

them

you’

re fr

om B

rook

lyn

and

I say

bu

t you

’re fr

om C

onne

ctic

ut.

An

invi

tatio

n ba

ck to

thei

r pla

ce

for w

ine

that

feel

s lik

e a

prop

ositi

on.

A M

ilky

Way

them

ed a

ir st

ream

tr

aile

r tha

t sel

ls g

rille

d ch

eese

—yo

u sc

ream

ing

at m

e fro

m a

bea

n ba

g ch

air,

ever

ythi

ng m

issh

apen

in

bla

ck li

ght,

and

so tw

iste

d, I

wal

k ou

tan

d ba

ck to

our

rent

al a

lone

thro

ugh

pitc

h-bl

ack

stre

ets

with

no

real

sid

ewal

ks.

Tayl

or D

. War

ing

a sn

owm

an t

o w

arm

me

his

eyes

mar

bled

into

dia

mon

d as

i po

ured

his

slic

k re

mai

nsin

to a

sho

t gla

ss

shap

ed li

ke a

pis

tol

our h

eads

coc

ked

back

& s

kyw

ard

laug

hing

lik

e la

mps

i did

not

kno

w h

ow to

than

k hi

mfo

r the

buz

z

as i

lit o

n fi r

e w

hat w

as le

ftof

his

face

this

is te

rrib

le

only

if y

ou d

on’t

know

it is

alw

ays

win

ter o

n hi

s pl

anet

it is

alw

ays

snow

ing

in h

is h

ead

Tayl

or D

. War

ing

a sn

owm

an t

o ab

duct

me

all n

ight

the

snow

man

spo

ke o

f his

moo

nw

ith a

n un

know

n gl

acia

l dra

wl

by d

awn

i cou

ld s

ee th

e fu

rred

co

rpse

of a

squ

irrel

emer

ging

from

his

tinf

oil

top

hat

a ru

sted

ant

enna

& w

hat a

ppea

red

to b

e an

aba

ndon

ed a

ltern

ator

bl

oom

ing

behi

nd h

is c

oppe

r rib

cage

he to

ld m

ehe

cam

e fro

m th

e ot

her s

ide

of m

ars

whe

re it

is a

lway

s w

inte

r

i sai

d i u

nder

stoo

dho

w it

feel

s to

sca

n th

e sk

yw

ith m

y bo

nes

hopi

ng fo

r an

alie

n be

acon

to c

all m

e ho

me

why

eve

ryon

e in

the

univ

erse

is a

lone

Who

’s go

ing

to lo

ve th

e dy

ing

girl?

It al

l unr

avel

s: a

sm

ashe

d ph

one

a di

scon

nect

ed c

all,

an o

vert

urne

d co

ffee

tabl

e, a

lock

ed b

athr

oom

, ch

unks

of m

y ha

ir, u

nmoo

red.

Part

Thr

ee: A

fter

mat

h

Trip

licat

es o

f pap

erw

ork.

A

gas

sto

p, a

guy

on

a H

arle

yw

ith a

sym

path

etic

look

an

d th

en c

heap

sun

glas

ses.

A le

gion

of b

ugs

sacr

ifi ce

d on

my

win

dshi

eld

with

no

subs

tanc

e in

the

wor

ld o

ther

than

she

er

will

to s

crub

them

off.

Six

hour

s to

forg

et:

I’ll l

eave

you

in a

sha

llow

gr

ave

in W

est T

exas

.

Bre

e A

. Rol

fe

Isha

nee

Cha

nda

The

Jour

ney

to t

he C

ente

r of

the

Ear

th

I am

dig

ging

thro

ugh

this

/ w

ith e

mpt

y bo

wls

/ a

ndca

llous

ed h

ands

/ T

he s

hove

l is

cold

/ a

nd d

ead

/ne

xt to

me

/ Th

ey s

ay u

nder

neat

h th

e di

rt /

the

deca

ying

bod

ies

/ th

ere

is a

sha

tter

ed /

bro

ken

door

/to

som

ewhe

re /

less

hea

vy /

On

the

othe

r sid

e /

of th

eun

iver

se /

gra

vity

runs

the

wro

ng w

ay /

It p

ulls

you

/in

to th

e ai

r / a

rms

abov

e yo

ur h

ead

/ Pr

ayer

is d

one

stan

ding

/ G

od k

neel

s /

at y

our f

eet /

He

mus

t be

acro

ss /

this

exp

anse

of d

eath

/ a

nd ro

t / a

nd a

crid

ity /

kne

elin

gon

/ th

e ot

her s

ide

/ I a

m d

iggi

ng /

God

/ I

am c

omin

g /

I am

/ b

uryi

ng m

ysel

f / a

live

/ at

you

r fee

t

From

the

right

a fl a

tbed

truc

k m

erge

sbe

arin

g a

tarp

cov

ered

load

.I s

low

to fo

llow

.Th

e ta

rp is

loos

ein

one

cor

ner,

a bl

ack

shro

ud o

f sec

recy

.W

hat c

ould

it b

e?It

coul

d be

any

thin

g:an

art

icul

ated

cla

msh

ell b

ucke

t,em

erge

ncy

gene

rato

r,sc

ulpt

ure

for t

he c

ivic

cen

ter,

a w

reck

ed B

ugat

ti.Sw

ayin

g, ro

ckin

g.O

hio

plat

es, i

s th

at a

clu

e?M

aybe

Leb

ron’

s tr

ophy

col

lect

ion

or th

e re

loca

ted

mau

sole

umof

the

Bes

sem

er fa

mily

.B

rake

ligh

ts.

I go

left

and

let i

t go,

in m

y re

ar v

iew

mirr

or a

nill

-sha

ped

lum

p of

com

mer

ce.

May

be h

eade

d yo

ur w

ay.

My

exit

seve

n m

inut

es a

way

.

Trav

is S

teph

ens

Trav

is S

teph

ens

Traffi c

Rep

ort

toda

y on

the

high

way

a sh

atte

red

pile

of

woo

d pi

eces

, jag

ged

shar

psam

id a

tang

le o

ffa

bric

and

bat

ting.

I bel

ieve

it w

as a

cou

ch.

A s

ofa.

Spla

tter

ed, s

hatt

ered

and

toss

ed.

Stuffi n

g ha

d be

com

e co

ver

& c

over

had

bec

ome

thre

ads.

Yest

erda

y on

the

freew

aybe

twee

n ex

itstr

affi c

slo

wed

but

did

n’t s

top

even

as

a w

hite

van

nose

d in

to th

e gu

ardr

ail

faci

ng tr

affi c

, poo

r thi

ng,

billo

wed

sm

oky fl a

me.

Rain

fell

as th

e fi r

emen

lit o

ff th

e hy

dran

t.

Mor

ning

traffi c

aba

ndon

sdo

gma

& p

raye

r for

the

solid

law

s of

phy

sics

.Th

e fa

vorit

e: a

bod

y in

mot

ion,

seco

nd b

est,

equa

l rea

ctio

ns.

Each

day

a re

affi r

mat

ion,

and

too

ofte

n a

lam

ent.

Why

oh

why

me?

Why

toda

y?

Isha

nee

Cha

nda

Mirr

or

you

pool

/ in

my

thro

at /

in th

e m

orni

ngs

/ th

e ta

ste

of y

our l

ips

/ al

way

s ca

ught

/ b

etw

een

my

tons

ils /

and

my

tong

ue /

it h

as b

een

mon

ths

/an

d i a

m s

till /

lick

ing

you

off /

my fi n

gert

ips

/ lik

e ho

ney

/ an

d ag

e-ol

d so

aked

win

e /

wha

t if

lovi

ng s

omeo

ne /

is n

ot h

oldi

ng th

em /

in y

our

mou

th /

whe

n th

ey a

re g

one

/ i t

ry to

sw

allo

w /

bu

t the

wor

ds g

et s

tuck

in m

y th

roat

/ s

hard

s of

glas

s /

slid

e in

to m

y st

omac

h /

they

cal

l lov

e th

e si

lver

dea

th /

and

i th

ink

abou

t the

mirr

or /

in

your

bed

room

/ a

ll w

arm

woo

d /

and

rose

s /

your

sm

ile re

fl ect

ed /

in th

e m

orni

ng li

ght /

ifth

is is

dea

th /

wha

t a g

limm

er it

car

ries

/ w

hat

a w

onde

rful

/ g

race

ful /

way

to g

o

Har

ley

Ana

stas

ia C

hapm

an

Haw

kmot

her

I’m tr

ying

to tu

rn m

y m

othe

r int

o a

haw

k.

Her

cof

fee

is to

o lo

ud,

she

pref

ers

win

gs m

ade

of ra

bbit.

I tel

l her

all

the

rede

mpt

ions

of t

he h

awk,

how

he

win

gs g

old

at s

unse

tho

w h

e sp

ots

prey

for x

mile

s.Sh

e te

lls m

e I s

houl

d br

ush

my

hair.

At n

ight

I br

eak

the

bird

& p

ut it

s bo

dy li

mp

unde

r her

pill

ow.

By

mor

ning

she

is p

ink

clay

.W

hen

her b

oyfr

iend

com

es h

ome

wat

er-e

yed

she

is o

n hi

m, a

kin

g’s

bird

.I w

atch

her

cle

an h

er te

eth

as if

she

has

a b

one

to p

ick

with

.

Sara

h So

usa

Witc

h

Wic

h: a

bun

dle

of fi

ber.

Wik

to tw

ine

and

twis

t,co

nnec

ted

to s

pinn

ing

a ha

sp, a

ske

in o

f yar

n.

Wik

the

coili

ng ro

ots

of th

e tr

ee. W

omen

tw

iste

d fl a

x an

d ot

her p

lant

fi be

rin

to w

icks

, dip

ped

in ta

llow

and

burn

ed. T

he w

ord

wic

ker f

or w

illow

wan

dba

sket

s, th

e w

ord

wea

k m

eani

ng fl

exib

le s

talk

,w

ice

for w

itch

haze

l’s p

liant

nat

ure.

W

icke

t, a

turn

ing

gate

. The

mea

sure

d tu

rnin

g of

tim

e, a

wee

k.

Wic

ked,

the

mak

ing

of k

nots

and

pla

iting

the fi b

ers.

W

icke

d th

e co

njur

ing

of c

loth

from

bea

sts.

Wic

h,

whe

n th

e fi e

ld g

rass

ass

embl

es.

Witc

h w

hen

it bu

rns.

Sara

h So

usa

The

Oth

er W

orld

Wha

t is

brok

en h

ere,

th

ere

is w

hole

. The

mirr

or’s

bad

luck

sea

led

for g

ood

alon

g its

con

cent

ric s

pide

r’s

web

of c

rack

s. T

he h

ead

of th

e do

ll pu

shed

bac

kon

to h

er b

ody.

Syn

thet

ic h

air,

jagg

ed-c

ut w

ith d

ull s

ciss

ors,

lo

ng a

gain

and

, odd

ly, h

uman

.A

sku

ll, a

vas

e, a

n ol

d lo

vem

ende

d. H

ole

in th

e ic

e, h

eart

valv

e, c

lasp

of t

he n

eckl

ace.

The

raze

d ho

use

reco

nstr

ucts

its

elf,

bone

by

char

red

bone

,bu

rnis

hes

the

empt

y ro

oms.

And

rive

rs fl

ow b

ack

to th

eir s

ourc

e:W

et-d

ark

tree

s. R

aind

rop

at th

e tip

of e

very

leaf

refl e

ctin

g th

e in

vert

ed w

orld

like

a w

oman

feat

here

d w

ith m

irror

s.

Har

ley

Ana

stas

ia C

hapm

an

Life

Stu

dy

I hav

e m

ade

my

life

a st

udy

of s

ilenc

e, th

e cu

lmin

atio

n of

you

rw

arni

ngs.

I ha

ng li

lac

from

the

bram

ble

in o

ur b

acky

ard,

mot

her,

dren

ch th

e pe

onie

s in

inse

ctic

ide.

Whe

n th

eir h

eads

han

g ca

rpen

ter b

odie

s fa

ll lik

e sn

ow.

That

’s w

hat t

hey

get,

mot

her.

Don

’t th

ey k

now

wha

t is

ours

?A

fam

ily o

f gro

undh

ogs

have

bu

rrow

ed n

ear,

I saw

them

wad

dlin

g in

a li

ne b

y th

e ga

rage

.A

mot

her &

thre

e ki

ts.

Do

you

rem

embe

r tha

t hou

se

you

lived

in fo

r a s

umm

er,

how

the

owne

r cag

ed

the

grou

ndho

g be

fore

he

coul

dun

derm

ine

the

front

por

ch?

How

the

crea

ture

cla

wed

aga

inst

the

wire

& it

was

so

hot t

hat d

ay,

his

paw

s bl

ood-

shin

y, m

outh

froth

ing.

We

trie

d to

sha

dehi

m, p

rovi

de w

ater

bu

t we

coul

dn’t

beco

me

thin

gs

he c

ould

trus

t. I w

ante

d so

bad

lyto

free

him

but

cou

ldn’

t brin

g m

ysel

fto

ope

n th

e ca

ge d

oor.

Cha

rles

Finn

Mor

ning

Cof

fee

They

wou

ld w

ake

early

and

car

ry th

eir m

orni

ng c

offe

e th

e th

e po

rch,

the

Fabe

rgé

rise

of th

e su

n th

eirs

for t

he ta

king

. Sh

e’d

salu

te th

e ye

llow

orb

with

a ti

ny b

ow o

f her

hea

d an

d he

’d ra

ise

his

mug

. The

n th

ey’d

set

tle in

to th

e w

icke

r ro

cker

s th

at o

nce

belo

nged

to h

er m

othe

r. Th

e ch

airs

kep

t tim

e, th

ey li

ked

to th

ink,

with

the

past

and

the

pres

ent.

Ritu

al w

as e

very

thin

g, a

nd th

e bi

rds,

the

mor

ning

ligh

t, th

ey b

roug

ht a

gre

at c

alm

ness

. Aft

er a

whi

le, h

e’d

reac

h ov

er a

nd ta

ke h

er h

and

and

she

knew

they

wer

e bu

ildin

g an

arc

hite

ctur

e of

hap

pine

ss to

geth

er, o

ne th

at w

ould

ne

ver b

e to

rn d

own.

Eve

n on

the

over

cast

or f

og w

rapp

ed

mor

ning

s th

ey s

at th

ere,

a p

air o

f mut

e cr

anes

in th

eir

bath

robe

s an

d sl

ippe

rs. T

hey

did

this

with

out s

peak

ing,

lis

teni

ng to

the

prog

ress

ion

of b

ird s

ong,

to th

e fl u

te-li

ke

and

chim

e-fi l

led

voic

es—

and

it m

atte

red,

mat

tere

d ve

ry

muc

h. B

y th

e tim

e th

ey fi

nish

ed th

eir c

offe

e, th

ey h

ad

hear

d ev

eryt

hing

they

nee

ded

to k

now

.

Cam

eron

Mor

se

Tres

pass

ing

Stra

y w

ith m

e. F

aste

n an

d fi x

ate.

A

wag

on w

heel

lean

s ag

ains

t the

pic

kets

.

Go,

inve

stig

ate.

In

vest

igat

e th

e fl o

wer

bed,

the

bask

etba

ll go

als

and

exte

nsio

n la

dder

s ly

ing

on th

eir s

ides

. Th

ese

sum

mer

hou

ses

are

mos

tly e

mpt

y in

Dec

embe

r,

thes

e ga

scan

s, ic

ebox

es,

left

over

pel

ts o

f sno

w o

n un

rake

d riv

ersi

de la

wns

.

It’s

unlik

ely

that

you

will

rem

embe

r thi

s,

how

you

stu

mbl

ed a

mon

g th

e ru

sty

boat

trai

lers

in th

e pr

e-da

wn

whe

re I

don

my

cove

ralls

. It’

s un

likel

y yo

u w

ill re

mem

ber m

e at

all.

Wha

t doe

s th

e w

ater

hav

e to

say

? W

hat d

oes

the

light

ha

ve to

say

to th

e w

ater

? A

nd y

ou, w

ould

you

ple

ase

just

cal

l me

Dad

dy?

I kno

w y

ou k

now

som

e w

ords

. It’

s ju

st u

s ou

t her

e on

the

rock

ban

k

of th

e M

issi

ssip

pi. L

et m

e le

an o

ver.

Whi

sper

som

ethi

ng in

my

ear.

Cam

eron

Mor

se

Mis

siss

ippi

Sin

galo

ng

We

wak

e to

the

clin

k of

a fl

agle

ss p

ole

like

ice

in th

e bo

ttom

of a

gla

ss, t

he c

link

of th

e la

nyar

d in

the

hand

s

of th

e w

ind.

We

wal

k in

the

cold

. Th

e w

illow

han

gs it

s le

afl e

ss v

ines

, lig

ht b

ulb fi l

amen

ts, s

un

casc

adin

g ov

er th

e ca

st ir

on fe

nce.

Who

se h

ouse

is th

is?

The

eart

h be

long

s to

us,

our

des

cend

ants

, ea

rthl

ings

, but

the

hous

e is

not

ou

r ow

n. B

elow

it fl

ows

the

river

.

Bef

ore

whi

ch w

e ba

lk.

The

river

shu

ffl es

its

feet

, cho

ppy

cow

boy

boot

s, in

its

deep

blu

e bl

ouse

.I b

elie

ve in

you

.

Even

thou

gh w

e’re

wor

n ou

t now

, I b

elie

ve y

ou w

ill a

lway

s be

nea

r me.

B

elow

us,

the

river

car

ries

the

river

, its

tune

, its

mel

ody.

Cha

rles

Finn

Som

ewhe

re

She

drea

ms

of w

hite

sw

ans

sitt

ing

on d

ark

patc

hes

of

lake

. Haw

ks, l

ifted

by

ther

mal

s, p

eggi

ng th

emse

lves

to

the

mid

day

sun.

She

dre

ams

of g

rizzl

y be

ars

mak

ing

jam

in

thei

r bel

lies,

and

bea

vers

hoa

rse

from

sho

utin

g w

hen

thei

r tre

es c

ome

dow

n. L

ying

aw

ake

in th

e pr

e-da

wn

light

sh

e dr

eam

s th

ese

thin

gs, a

nd h

e ca

n fe

el h

er b

esid

e hi

m,

goin

g de

eper

and

dee

per i

nto

the

anim

als’

live

s. M

ost

ofte

n sh

e dr

eam

s of

bird

s, o

f an

inex

plic

able

pul

l, of

fl yi

ng

sout

h w

ith th

e m

oon

for w

eeks

on

end.

She

wan

ts th

is s

he

tells

him

, how

she

long

s fo

r an

unco

ntro

llabl

e ac

he ra

ther

th

an th

e on

e sh

e ha

s. H

e do

esn’

t say

any

thin

g, b

ut in

the

mor

ning

he

take

s he

r out

to th

e la

ke w

here

the

mig

ratin

g w

ater

fow

l sto

p ov

er, w

here

they

mak

e lo

ve, w

here

to

geth

er th

ey w

alk,

han

d in

han

d, a

s fa

r and

as

fast

as

they

ca

n.

Susa

n L.

Lea

ry

The

Clea

nest

She

et o

f Ice

Thro

ugh

the

clea

nest

she

et o

f ice

, I w

atch

my

brot

her

drow

ning

. He

wat

ches

as

I wat

ch. B

oth

of u

s hu

rt b

y w

inte

r—by

wat

er &

win

d &

thei

r sha

red

set o

f tee

th. M

y m

outh

stu

ffed

shut

with

the

whi

test

orc

hids

. His

eye

s pa

led

into

the

colo

r of s

now

. Thi

s is

wha

t add

ictio

n w

ill d

o.

Will

pla

ce y

our b

ody

& th

e bo

dy o

f the

one

you

love

in

freez

ing

tem

pera

ture

s &

sep

arat

e th

em w

ith th

e cl

eane

st

shee

t of i

ce. S

o cl

ean,

my

brot

her &

I ca

n al

mos

t tou

ch.

Alm

ost c

onso

le o

ne a

noth

er. T

he ic

e ab

laze

with

all

that

fe

elin

g. &

how

it n

ever

sto

ps—

not t

he w

ater

rush

ing,

nor

th

e ea

rspl

ittin

g so

unds

of a

gro

wn

man

wai

ling.

The

sou

nd

of m

y br

othe

r dro

wni

ng &

not

kno

win

g ho

w to

die

.

Susa

n L.

Lea

ry

My

Brot

her

Can

Say

Som

e of

the

Pre

ttie

st T

hing

s

My

brot

her c

an s

ay s

ome

of th

e pr

ettie

st th

ings

. Can

tell

you

abou

t the

wat

er &

the

soft

sm

ack

of th

e ne

t. A

bout

th

e so

und

of th

e lin

e un

rave

ling

into

the

mou

th o

f the

fi n

est-

look

ing

snap

per.

All

that

sw

eetn

ess

in th

e ea

r, ju

st

for h

im. H

ow th

e so

und

of it

bar

rels

into

the

grit

of h

is

blis

terin

g pa

lms.

In th

em, t

he s

ound

of w

ho g

ets

to li

ve.

Like

I sa

id, m

y br

othe

r can

say

som

e of

the

pret

tiest

th

ings

. My

brot

her,

who

se h

ands

fi dg

et to

geth

er li

ke

loos

e pu

ppet

s ac

ross

his

lap.

Who

sel

ls fo

od s

tam

ps

for R

oxic

odon

e. R

etur

ns to

us

spor

adic

ally

& g

oes

unsh

ower

ed fo

r day

s. M

y br

othe

r, w

ho le

aves

in th

e to

ilet

the

base

st re

mna

nts

of a

bod

y. H

is m

othe

r, w

ho s

plits

the

skin

of h

er fi

nger

s to

cle

an it

.

But

my

brot

her c

an s

ay s

ome

of th

e pr

ettie

st th

ings

. Can

te

ll yo

u w

hat e

veni

ng s

mel

ls li

ke in

the

mid

dle

of n

owhe

re.

The

way

the

lung

s op

en to

that

sce

nt o

f stil

lnes

s be

twee

n a

man

& n

othi

ng b

ut th

e ea

rth.

All

that

sky

acc

umul

atin

g,

just

for h

im. H

ow th

e sm

ell o

f it d

raw

s ne

ar th

e m

ost

hidd

en p

arts

of n

ight

eve

n th

e st

ars

had

forg

otte

n. T

hat

now

in th

ose

star

s, s

omet

hing

her

oic.

Exce

pt m

y br

othe

r has

no

hom

e &

no

wor

k. M

y br

othe

r, w

ho c

arrie

s th

e di

rt o

f an

entir

e ci

ty in

his

bea

rd &

pr

eten

ds h

e w

ants

to c

hang

e. Y

ou s

ee, m

y br

othe

r can

te

ach

the

sad

irony

of p

eopl

e w

ho s

ay th

e pr

ettie

st th

ings

. B

ut I

can

teac

h yo

u th

e sa

dder

iron

y of

peo

ple

who

hea

r th

em. L

ike

each

tim

e in

par

ting,

whe

n he

tells

me

he lo

ves

me

& I

belie

ve it

.