It continued to haunt, in its electro-stripes and

late your saying intervened, adding blue

to the triangle like a screen. This

system which couldn’t echo and failed to

orient the true barrier. A long thin line

from their penultimate year

or the pavilion they’re casting around.

Copyright © 2015 by Hannah Brooks-Motl. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on August 12, 2015, by the Academy of American Poets.