A d r i a n L ü r s s e n —

SONNET :: REFLEXIVE VERMONT

The first voice sings a receding coat of arms: porcupine, fox, bear

on the edge of a corn field. We’re left to imagine table and coffin

both fashioned from wood. The second voice believes birds

in the circuit trees grieve body and song (ergo “Music box, carved

from the heart”). When two beavers circle a pond in afternoon light

it is called dissembling, but where and by whom? Wait

for the slap. Whose back pocket punctuation is this, anyway?

The second voice asks, where does a body come to rest?

Where do we be long? (ergo “Maples before diminished light.”)

A third speaks a dated grief —yellowed replay

to each reply — feathered not featured — pine

not pines. And yet, no voice to speak of the robin in the garden

taken for the robin in the dream of the garden

like a comma used to its fullest, left hanging in the air.

for Aaron Fagan

[untitled]

I miss when we were children and the desert a tongue

I missed the landing party and the tides

First love was her name

said out loud begs for a comma

What will become of us

Do not count the after math. It says

other than the theory

of dreams we dream at sea

no one knows

what has become of us

.