School Days

I can’t write about Ohio,

no matter how hard I try to capture

roads flatter than sky and the grey

ache-chime of day fade—

it won’t come.


Or the snow-drift blue afternoons

supporting brick buildings

to the seamless sills of windows;

snow sips, nibbles at glass,

at toes, at noses redder than stop

signs. I can’t remember


the reservoir, round and round,

around the rim, stone silt

and bulrush breezes, oak trees taller

than chapel bells, in the branches

and the woody pages, an opening.

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