Kathryn Gessner

In Issue 5 on February 17, 2011 at 1:18 pm

What Keeps Us?

Wind, wings, and wizardry keep us
next to the promise of spring, even
rivermud drying on the dog
tells us things can change.

In the middle of a moonless night,
stars obscured by clouds, rain
pelting on, what can we
but hunker down in our own limbs,

remember how to caress ourselves?
Stark mornings do come on then
when the sky as blue as it could be,
translucent as wings, delicious

fruit for any kind of day at all.
Like yesterday. Along the roadway,
spinning into motion, small seeds
take to air, the owl with talons carved
toward some bloody meal.

Still the river greens its way onward.
Still the trout will rise and snap all the weak
lines, bursting sunwater realm
beyond understanding.


Kathryn Gessner teaches writing at Shasta College in Redding, California. The surrounding forests are home to her poetry practice. She holds an MFA from the University of Arkansas and has most recently published poems in New Millennium Writings, Red Rock Review, and Squaw Valley Poetry Anthology.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: