Summer 2002 • Vol. XXIV No. 3/4 PoetryJuly 1, 2002 |

Across the River

                         a bull moose waits        (for something) to cross the river. Finally it crosses.        You want to link the moose to the pain in your chest        but to compare a moose's efforts to ascend a riverbank        at dusk, in the heat, to your own life so you watch it go, and let the impulse go        with it, over and out of view of the zero stars        governing a sky increasingly savage in its clearness.

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