Emily Wilson Poems
|1.||Disseminate Birds Over Water||7/21/2014|
|2.||Fish Rises, Dark Brown Muscle Turns Over||7/21/2014|
|4.||Scratchings Among The Burnings||7/21/2014|
|5.||Threshed Blue, Cardings, Dim Tonsils||7/21/2014|
|6.||Wind Thumbs Through Woods||7/21/2014|
|9.||The Sky Is The Lost Orpheum||7/21/2014|
|11.||Houses Among Us||7/21/2014|
|14.||A Friend Like You||5/21/2007|
Native it seems to no part
of the North American continent
but some islets off
the rugged scarps of the Aleutians
in the loose entablatured cliffs
among dwarf-willow tips.
Known if at all by its silhouette
(we can know such things by their silhouettes)
the red-legged kittiwake
glimpsed in isolate parts of Oregon
California and southern Nevada
said to go silent in winter
slitting through snow
the red-legged kittiwake.
The red of the red-legged kittiwake
of a kinship with black
solders across the ice-gaps.
Native in no real part
Barely discerned clouds
Hard, hard to get here
what worth, what worth
River of steel.
River of no one becoming you.
Trees that are emptier today, more forced in their forms
To focus on them is to be made glad of them in their
The earth extrudes through them toward emptiness