Nov/Dec 2020 • Vol. XLII No. 6 PoetryNovember 1, 2020 |

Four Poses

You bend your foot, slow as the heron at hunt, who shifted to the sun side of the shoulder to let us pass, yesterday, beneath those reedy capers. It flew, when it flew, wispy as a reed. Cocked stiletto orange beak, a great white bulb- body glistening into wings. Ardeidae, of the species A. alba — you hardly seem to move. It’s like a crane, but closer in relation to the pelican, common enough in these parts. . . . Now you are the skier — looking out the big glass to the bay, the bright water we love, wing tipped, white capped, depending, wild or serene as each cloud. You crouch and hold, and the algae bloom, come so far — from the Amazon, some say, some thousand miles, a species a billion years old — floats in its ribbon locked in a gyre beyond our shore. Sahara dust pinks the sky at nightfall. So still the stars, yet whirling in a gyre, too . . . Now the brown millipede that fell from the sky, you said, to the red tiles outside our door

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.

David Baker is the author or editor of many books of poetry and criticism. His latest collection of poems, Whale Fall, was published by W. W. Norton in July 2022. Baker taught at Kenyon 1983–84 and began a long association with The Kenyon Review then, including service for more than twenty-five years as poetry editor. He continues to curate the magazine’s annual environmental feature, “Nature’s Nature.” Baker is emeritus professor of English at Denison University, in Granville, Ohio, where he offers two classes each spring semester.

Read More

Nature’s Nature

By David Baker

You bend your foot, slow as the heron at hunt, who shifted to the sun side of the shoulder to let us pass, yesterday, beneath those reedy capers. It flew, […]

[Introduction]

By David Baker

You bend your foot, slow as the heron at hunt, who shifted to the sun side of the shoulder to let us pass, yesterday, beneath those reedy capers. It flew, […]

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.