by Robert Wynne
- After Sylvia Plath
Trust is a game best played on the still surface
of a lake at night, the plain consideration of 2 bodies
working together to steady a small rowboat
as the crescent moon continues its conversation
with a herd of clouds clustered near the horizon.
The shadows of trees stretch all the way across
to Canada, loitering lawlessly over that border
with the authority of sheer indifference,
limbs spelling new words in the wind, each gesture
the sum of another whole day forgotten.
A splash sounds in the distance.
Is that laughter or crying?
Sit at the shore’s dark desk.
Answer carefully.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Robert Wynne earned his MFA in Creative Writing from Antioch University. A former co-editor of Cider Press Review, he has published 6 chapter books, and 3 full-length books of poetry, the most recent being Self-Portrait as Odysseus, published in 2011 by Tebot Bach Press. He’s won numerous prizes, and his poetry has appeared in magazines and anthologies throughout North America. He lives in Burleson, Texas with his wife and two rambunctious dogs. His online home is www.rwynne.com.