Scene by Mike Dillon

The blue, bovine river

and its cargo of silence

doubles the sky.

 

The afternoon drifts west

past the green candle flames

of seven poplars

 

and a golden field 

where a red-tailed hawk 

tightens its circle.

 

A white cloud drifts north,

definite and benign 

as a parish map.

 

Sweet, posthumous clarity.

The earth my happy ghost would behold

without words or name, at last.


Mike Dillon lives in Indianola, Washington, a small town on Puget Sound northwest of Seattle. His most recent, full-length book is Departures: Poetry and Prose on the Removal of Bainbridge Island’s Japanese Americans After Pearl Harbor (Unsolicited Press 2019). Finishing Line Press published his chapbook, The Return, in March 2021.

Previous
Previous

Orbweaver by Maggie Menezes Walcott

Next
Next

it must be strange to be a house by Deirdre Fagan