Winter 1998 • Vol. XX No. 1 Poetry |

Song of Separation 3

   Heavy, like dried figs,       the spaces around her eyes—the sorrow she carries.              ∗ September: Late summer spreads           like a tarp over the land, like a flea    snorkeling under the shiny fur of stars.           There is a clarity to this bitterness.    Soon there will be "paeans" to winter,       its own kind of loneliness,           time of mist scrunching over the frost paths,  the peat moss of gray stars scraped, lugged       across pavements of night.  But this night is so hot, so humid,           the sounds of earth buzz, sweat fatly              through the screen from far away.              ∗        A still night; two leaves           fall from the maple—       

Already have an account? Login

Join KR for even more to read.

Register for a free account to read five free pieces a month from our current issue and digital archive.
Register for Free and Read This Piece



Or become a subscriber today and get complete, immediate access to our digital archives at every subscription level.

Read More

April and the New Physics

By Stuart Lishan

   Heavy, like dried figs,       the spaces around her eyes—the sorrow she carries.              ∗ September: Late summer spreads           like a tarp over the land, like a flea    snorkeling under the shiny […]

Song of Separation

By Stuart Lishan

   Heavy, like dried figs,       the spaces around her eyes—the sorrow she carries.              ∗ September: Late summer spreads           like a tarp over the land, like a flea    snorkeling under the shiny […]

Subscribe

Your free registration with Kenyon review incudes access to exclusive content, early access to program registration, and more.

Donate

With your support, we’ll continue 
to cultivate talent and publish extraordinary literature from diverse voices around the world.