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Two Poems


The End of the World

has already happened
is happening
here it is
what to prove
nothing
here it is
no other
than
the small coiled teeth
of mollusk radula scraping granite tidepools
clean
seen correctly
every bush
is a burning bush
 
 

Let Goldfinches Fly Out of Yellow

wild mustard
let the sun rotate as though seeming to circle the earth
let rain fall into storm culverts
and the blue dragonfly
swerve
out of blue sky
begin to count the beats of your heart
then uncount them
imitate a tree then imitate
a tree imitating you
then forget which one
you are
now arrange crows to reflect sky with their wings
and chainsaws
to wail across the canyon
like lost
souls

Meredith Stricker

The Iowa Review

Winter 2013/14


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