← v17n1, Spring 2018
Poetry · Volume 17, Number 1

Exhaust

I learned landscape from wolves,

mountains from the moon,

and city from an acacia tree.

Sunlight is my other half,

the other half of night.

Give me the stars.

Give me even the exhaust

from car tailpipes—

the sore throat it brings

will offer a new voice

for me to say

I love you.