Eratio


 

 

 

DEER & GHOST OF DEER

 

Carolyn Guinzio

 

 

 

 

There are two voices in the leaves arguing

 

         in the leaves a dark voice

 

a quiet voice   in the leaves   like a hoof

 

stomping  bent  in the leaves  straight 

 

  bent   straight  in the leaves  that sound

 

when a bird   in the leaves   lifts its weightless

 

 feet  from the leaves    not weightless but nearly

 

erasing the border  between body and leaf

 

  a crashing  in the leaves   from mere ounces

 

and sycamores  reach horns bleached by

 

a roadside    horns fallen in the fallen   leaves

 

shoulder to the shoulder of the November road

 

hooves in the leaves   the weak feet of vultures

 

 in the leaves   the sound from the bodies

 

and leaf-colored clothes  standing   in the leaves

 

the smell of the wet, dead  leaves  under the leaves

 

and what is the soul, what stays in   the leaves

 

or what leaves?  When it’s quiet it will be safe

 

to leave what I was   in the leaves

 

 

 

                   

 

 

 

 

 

Poems by Carolyn Guinzio have appeared in The New Yorker, Agni, Phoebe, Harvard Review, Bomb, Boston Review and many other journals, including E·ratio #18.  Her sixth book is How Much Of What Falls Will Be Left When It Gets To The Ground? (Tolsun, 2018).  Among her previous books are Spoke & Dark (Red Hen, 2012) and Quarry (Parlor, 2008). 

 

 


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