the shores fanned out like dark kidneys, moon a tiny mirror on her face
she lists the dangers knowing nothing but despair of rain in stomach
if water were to loss as light is to body, then let it be voice, anthem, bells
let human hands link like water-roots, for what is the rhythm of breath
but waves in a current? the grain of the voice in a bed of silt & bone
a language known to winter cypress who understand nothing
stays preserved for long: the river is always in embryo:
no matter how they strive downward the bones will surface white
as shells, air stinging in their hollows, the presence of collect it from the wind
Casey Nichols is an MFA candidate in poetry at Bowling Green State University. She received her BA in English from Kent State University. In 2010, her work was published in Luna Negra and won the Wick Poetry Undergraduate Competition. Currently, she works as an assistant editor for Mid-American Review.