Atwood Road Atwood Road
(in memory, Jonathan Schell) A mile from Slough Pond’s glacial hush, a folded newspaper hat kept your bashed head cool, like the kite you made, three decades ago, from paper and tw…
Mar 9, 2017 / Books & the Arts / Cynthia Zarin
The Muse of History The Muse of History
I. CLIO “let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth” The past’s fantasia cannot hold or let us go. Flycatcher catching itself in the pool’s glint gaze, Samarkand where Tamerlane…
Feb 9, 2017 / Books & the Arts / Cynthia Zarin
Late Afternoon Late Afternoon
(for Alice Truax) Three pairs of binoculars but which one works— why do we say “pair” when we mean one? What we see is what we are—the swimming pool’s black shadow eye-mote, a mole…
Feb 9, 2017 / Books & the Arts / Cynthia Zarin
Anxiety Anxiety
Cat claws on the heart’s tin roof, each breath a locomotive running off the rails, the switching signal’s warning rat-a-tat, I’m up too early, the alphabet net snags and tears, mot…
Feb 9, 2017 / Books & the Arts / Cynthia Zarin