The wind did devotions through the gorge when you arrived.
The sun brighter and wet seasons more bountiful.
Mountain lions track deer over the swift flow of interstates
on bridges made for the deer, the lion, the blackberry
bush, and the bobcat with a wild hare in its jaw. You were born
upon a communication boom, you see. Vancouver receives
smoke from California and its signals are grasped worldwide.
Summertime, the season of play, awakes pandiculating into spring and fall
and we flock to the beach where you first taste saltwater
where gulls and sandpipers charge the clouds
to suck them aloft. Today, it is almost impossible to be more
than a short walk from humanity. How safe you must feel
to find a flat can of cola tossed by some Hansel
glinting in the remotest glen behind the flourishing
tines of blackberry. And summer, strident summer, comes
in sepia, dressing our eyes in nostalgia. You’ll remember
when you learned to nurture a garden in your cave, to
bleed through your nose, and to live like the deer—
out when the moon tucks away
orange through the haze.
Joshua Stanek is a poet and musician transplanted to the Pacific Northwest from North Florida. He completed his MFA at Portland State University, is a former poetry co-editor for the Portland Review, and is an Editorial Assistant for Fonograf Editions, a nonprofit book press and record label. His poetry engages with fellowship, the environment, deconstructing borders, and pollutants of space and thought.
Image: icwa.org
Check out HFR’s book catalog, publicity list, submission manager, and buy merch from our Spring store. Follow us on Instagram and YouTube. Disclosure: HFR is an affiliate of Bookshop.org and we will earn a commission if you click through and make a purchase. Sales from Bookshop.org help support independent bookstores and small presses.
Heavy Feather Review 