← v2n2, Fall 2003Poetry · Volume 2, Number 2
Nights Mutable as Water Revise Themselves into the Shape of Our Extravagant Past
so that even the mildest gesture
astonishes, just as this night's fickle
snowfall startles the ripening orchard,
throngs of Cortland dwarfs, rimed
in silver, curving their slim branches
to dark earth. Trailing our rockiest
good intentions, that slipshod
cortège of poor elections and risky
marriages, we hurtled, breakneck,
toward a future dubious as any history
text. And maybe we were liars,
crooning blue lullabies as we battled
for purchase, ambitious for anything
costly, even these small moony apples
charming but wrong.
