← v2n2, Fall 2003
Poetry · 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.