ignis fatuus.

with a burst of resolve, he lifts his chin

the effigy could be melting, pooling at his soles

an afternoon in august, some year past

a heap of clean white, discarded shirts

still, the silhouette of a bird

singing coyly above

a browning bush, her leaves curling away

from the blazing sun

she never could have turned

it wasn’t his fault, and he carried it all

sweat on his back, he lifts the last box

the infinite pavement could be the sea

the air could drown young souls

he pretends he can swim for the shore

© july 2011 heather brager

going back.

we’re only oceanside
for a few moments

then locked in the
land stretched below

these are the trees
beside stacked rocks

the continental divide
and you drive too fast

cornering, my language
of upland truckers

we’re always heading west,
east and back again


© july 2011 heather brager

versus.

she will be your

inevitable stretch

cunning misconduct

against silken linens

compulsory tonic

a perfectly weighted glass

tastefully painted nails

in the midst of a january squall

she will be the artist

in company of banal accountants

calculating your future

movement with measured vigor

she will integrate flour and water

stir, and preheat the oven

© july 2011 heather brager

no regret, and morning.

her tenable

sapphire eyes

undercover shadows

hushed beside cool walls,

in corners

an acrid sentiment

of guilt

with muted lividity

as reply

she is posed

in question

lips drawn in,

a wilting rose

a motion for

resurrection

waking,

to lucidity

© july 2011 heather brager

the art of autonomy.

muffled words are caught, a cappella

monochromatic accord, the background rush

of dying high prairie grasses

the insects hum nomadic echoes

through the expanse of vacant space

behind the house

in the ear drum, in the mind’s tired eye

discussions and denotations

of broken insight

a moment free from gray contemplation

the curse of intuitive impulse, the unspoken commands

symbiotic attachment fraught with weight

the burden of neglected back stories

solace in the quiet sky

the acrimony of cyclical loss

this conversation becomes art

poetry is the memory

of her face turning away

the image of a sunrise reflecting on the hood

at the corner of College and Main

the train sounding at 3:00 a.m.

with ice clinking in a glass

and no visible summit

just a song through the speakers

and layers hidden under paint

© july 2011 heather brager