Marsh Hawk Review is an online poetry journal sponsored by the Marsh Hawk Press collective. Marsh Hawk Review will appear twice a year, under the revolving editorship of collective members. Each issue will offer a selection of poems solicited by the editor, in addition to new work posted by poets in the collective.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Lorrie Goldensohn

Animals Too


Animals too come clothed

although unlike us

they never take their furs

or feathers off, or need

to buff their nails or noses


until death


when the flayed

bloody thing on the roadbed

or wrynecked and dangling

or crushed and stilled

insults


what they truly are


how could they so let themselves

be seen


At night ahead of us

in the yellow headlights

that form a moving stage

the fox steps on then off


forepaws and hind paws

floating the magnificent

burden of his brush

into the brush


a deer crosses


while just

at the lower edge of sight

the velvety woodchuck


lifts his head, even

as his eyes look away

never meeting ours:


hostage to what remembers him



*******


Bed in a Field at Night


The heart still happy to think of it.

You and your man, both young,

dragging the wooden bedstead

out to the apple trees:

the bed beneath the stars, nighttime

darkness receding higher and higher,

and under you in cool suspension

the grasses of the field.


For three weeks it didn’t rain,

except for the dew soaking

the bedclothes in the morning;

while one of you waited for sunrise

to dry them, the other one

ran to the farmhouse kitchen to make coffee

and bring back two steaming cups.


Sunset, moonrise, moonset.

All the summer constellations

seeming to wink unsteadily,

then slowly dawn.

Two heads far back, the eyes

drinking from the big dipper,

in those days probably smoking,

although this was long before pot.


For forty years I’ve been jealous:

the two of you close, tiny,

warm in your own heat,

wide open to that black largesse—

from its bright perforations the unknown


worlds leaking through.

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