← v16n1, Spring 2017
Poetry · Volume 16, Number 1

So It Goes

Hover, drift, sidle, twist,

dipping a wing, leveling off,

great feather-light planes of color

threaded together like a Miró

mobile suspended in a gulf

of darkness inside some museum

of forgotten days, the faces of strangers

gazing upward, mouthing words you

cannot make out from this all-

consuming distance: hospice, the bed-

side gathering, the long night followed

by the even longer morning.