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In Long Light


The sooty night a backdrop
for a slip of rowan trees,
swans in migration.
Beneath the ice
in its interminable thaw
streams improbable
but assuredly there—
these things contained,
not trapped by the world.
What I mean to say is,
I am not sure I will ever
become the person
I had hoped, or forgive
myself the inaccuracy
of estimation. It is
one thing to blame
the glare of the sun
and another to be held
(but not bound) through the
long fermata of dusk
and its promised repetition.


Joan Naviyuk Kane

Hyperboreal
University of Pittsburgh Press


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