Will Durham
Trapper Comes out the Forest Late
How come say we falls the leaves
all trampled with the sun half hidden
among the pine clouds shaven grass
clean among the water shingles
sure it’s the fishes roofs isn’t it?
Cooing in the midday children
doing best collapsing all elephant
trunks full of old wool it hums
chatterful of tough words hinting
at come ‘ere boy the sun stalks
high sock’d and a’skitter now,
Joey slides closer to Filman
just a pinky distance away oh
could it be? such heat in a body
it leaves in steam fills the atmosphere
thick with it the rain saturates
clothes and all those wicker helmets
warp and the neighbors slam the brooms
on the ceiling hard like tests and kisses
this is it and the police officer knocks
on fogged glass like the inside of a grave.
Will Durham is a poet and bookseller living in Seattle where he received an MFA from the University of Washington. He is from Ransom Canyon, outside Lubbock, Texas. He has been published in such publications as RHINO, BPR, and THRUSH.
Return to March 2021 Edition
How come say we falls the leaves
all trampled with the sun half hidden
among the pine clouds shaven grass
clean among the water shingles
sure it’s the fishes roofs isn’t it?
Cooing in the midday children
doing best collapsing all elephant
trunks full of old wool it hums
chatterful of tough words hinting
at come ‘ere boy the sun stalks
high sock’d and a’skitter now,
Joey slides closer to Filman
just a pinky distance away oh
could it be? such heat in a body
it leaves in steam fills the atmosphere
thick with it the rain saturates
clothes and all those wicker helmets
warp and the neighbors slam the brooms
on the ceiling hard like tests and kisses
this is it and the police officer knocks
on fogged glass like the inside of a grave.
Will Durham is a poet and bookseller living in Seattle where he received an MFA from the University of Washington. He is from Ransom Canyon, outside Lubbock, Texas. He has been published in such publications as RHINO, BPR, and THRUSH.
Return to March 2021 Edition