on a winter evening eyes see furthest
to a hummock of mist on horizon
to a kneeling giant a U-shaped valley
glacial moraine of gravel & clay
to a knowing tide the noise of the flood
a surge of foam to cover us all
to shell-sand that slowly accumulates
in abandoned ridges of lazybeds
to a broken landscape
exposed rock avian vectors of birch
evaporating ocean a chain of islets
to meadowsweet softened by drizzle
the fossilized needles of a monkey puzzle
to coniferous patches of dark
to a herd of stars coaxed from a river
a very black thing at the edge of a sward
hazel saplings densely clustered
fertilizing strips of dried seaweed
to a rotting wolf in a field of clover
a hedgerow in winter the production of dust
to forests cleared of their greatest wood
archipelagos drowned by the melting of ice
to a crow on the brink of a cliff without wrinkle
ripples on the surface of a lake
to an outburst of fish hundreds of salmon
a fruitful harbour entered through song
Copyright © 2025 by Dylan Brennan. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on January 9, 2025, by the Academy of American Poets.
I am taken with the hot animal
of my skin, grateful to swing my limbs
and have them move as I intend, though
my knee, though my shoulder, though something
is torn or tearing. Today, a dozen squid, dead
on the harbor beach: one mostly buried,
one with skin empty as a shell and hollow
feeling, and, though the tentacles look soft,
I do not touch them. I imagine they
were startled to find themselves in the sun.
I imagine the tide simply went out
without them. I imagine they cannot
feel the black flies charting the raised hills
of their eyes. I write my name in the sand:
Donika Kelly. I watch eighteen seagulls
skim the sandbar and lift low in the sky.
I pick up a pebble that looks like a green egg.
To the ditch lily I say I am in love.
To the Jeep parked haphazardly on the narrow
street I am in love. To the roses, white
petals rimmed brown, to the yellow lined
pavement, to the house trimmed in gold I am
in love. I shout with the rough calculus
of walking. Just let me find my way back,
let me move like a tide come in.
Copyright © 2017 by Donika Kelly. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on November 20, 2017, by the Academy of American Poets.