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Like Something in His Handwriting

It was hotter back then.

No, it wasn’t it had to be cooler, clouded.

A park down below where no one ever met.

But men were pulled by dogs along paths made by the walkers.

And a nameless river through a photograph of woods

proposed a nonlocal reality

that shimmered at the instant of its own disappearance.

She bought the picture, brought it back, propped it against drywall

where someone had penciled a message

she couldn’t make out.

The end of another summer wandered across yards

that weren’t fenced or watered.

If it rained, it rained.

And then the rain inebriated us.

A yellow leaf floated toward ground

transmitting a spot of optimism

through a slow intensification of color in the lower corner of the morning.

from Rising, Falling, HoveringFind it in the library

Copyright © 2008 C.D. Wright
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, Inc.
on behalf of Copper Canyon Press.

Published in C.D. Wright Poems

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