← v14n1, Spring 2015Poetry · Volume 14, Number 1
Richmond
Fenyadi was my guru,
which I learned on the road.
I followed him into the woods.
The woodpecker was followed first
by butterflies, which led
to the woodpecker. We each had
our own glass vase. We gathered
bark that was knocked down
by woodpeckers. Breathed deeply.
The sun shone off
the river and there were no boats.
Or do you have heavenly
soil? It wasn’t known
who said it.
