from Bourn


David Wolf





Notice how

the opening flatters

the veil, energizes,

prompts you to listen closely,

to instill in the silence

a sense of memory’s turns and widening ebb.


Sentient drift—

sands to answer to and no deal down.

The depths may

own your laughter at a loss,

as it goes, remember.

A few more words for now.


Yesterday, to no avail,

the crew-stroke of happiness

trolling its refrain

as the obvious ret(r)ains

its tantrums.


Retinue everlasting

beneath the flex of invisible laughter

easing not these xeric times, these orbits

that levy the observable turning away—

grainy sidestep of yore . . .


alkanet root—its likening dye,

a sunset answering

the invisible net,

no etude, no terminus,

tensile as the florid restart that is autumn’s true making,

a remnant uttered,

a sleepless angle of static,

an exit to the tenor of belief’s looping urges,

filmic form—

all this as the moon rises

over the wide river, emerging

from light’s blue to hang awhile,

just like the old days, you laugh,

then doze in the sheen.









David Wolf is the author of six collections of poetry, Open Season, The Moment Forever, Sablier I, Sablier II, Visions (with artist David Richmond), and Weir (a micro-chapbook from Origami Poems Project).  His work has appeared in numerous literary magazines and journals, including BlazeVOX, Cleaver Magazine, dadakuku, decomp, E·ratio, Indefinite Space, Lotus-eater, New York Quarterly, Otoliths, and River Styx Magazine.  He is a professor emeritus of English at Simpson College and serves as the poetry editor for Janus Head: Journal of Interdisciplinary Studies in Literature, Continental Philosophy, Phenomenological Psychology, and the Arts. 



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