May 27, 2015KR OnlinePoetry

Voices as of Lions Coming Down

—Still brutes? Yes. —Still fools? We?
Of course. Deep January
heavy and forever, way down on us
it sits. Ice-heavy, our needles,
our canopy, sapped. We watched it: the lake

eat the light. All of it. Why
we ask; but nothing. Scraped faces
off the birds, they eat no fish. They
gods of the lake: fish. Under the ice
the gods swim slow, we say.

But I don’t believe it. They dead,
and so’s the light. And snow,
so many terribles falling. But snow
a comet’s tail, maybe, in our hair?
And maybe then where the light

is going? —No. A fault then? —Reckon.
Reckon we involved? —Yes.
And violently? —Violently.

William Brewer is the author of I Know Your Kind (Milkweed Editions, 2017), a National Poetry Series winner. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Boston Review, Narrative, The Nation, New England Review, The New Yorker, and other journals. He's currently a Stegner Fellow at Stanford University.