Menu

Poetry

after Washington Allston

Growing up, the coke ovens were open ears
I uttered nothing to. Men labored here

to impress themselves into the landscape,
now rust & snake pits, the tang of copper

in Dunlap Creek. Each night the ATV engines
protest the approaching evening’s indifference.

Its stormy immanence. In this desert,
I scoured books, lodestones to compass myself

between ambition & survival. They said:
“Let us love the country of here below.

It is real; it offers resistance to love.”
Lord, let me not forget the possibility

of blooming, unlike the trees here grown gray
drinking the water’s black reflection. Teach me

the patience of a raven suffering
the company of a starving man.


The Image archive is supported in part by an award from the National Endowment for the Arts.

Access one piece of artwork every month for free! To experience the full archive, log in or subscribe.

Related Poetry

Stalwart

By

Lisa Ampleman

blurry pink and white blossoms moving in the wind.

Lullaby for the Aborted Child

By

Khaled Mattawa

image of a woman with her face towards the camera and the sun behind her back, illuminating a large tree. she is in shadows, the hint of light on the side of her face from the light of the sun. in front of her flies grass, swirling around her in the air.

Yes, a nameless quietness…

By

Ionatan Pirosca

[We have nothing…]

By

Dimitri Psurtsev

Pin It on Pinterest