®

Today's poem is by Beth Bachmann

energy
       

Sometimes, after snow, you find yourself in a field

of laughing gulls shaken and spat in a mass kill

and your boots are the only noise. It's like a bad joke

I cannot resist telling. Enough. Hunger is plenty.

Everything is dangerous. New moon, the red fox

is out walking. Extinction is nothing to the sea

other than exhaustion. Sometimes, it's a sand dune,

but even after storm, water's never silent. Rest

easy. Those sounds can't be human.



Copyright © 2014 Beth Bachmann All rights reserved
from Do Not Rise
University of Pittsburgh Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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