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Ann Fisher-Wirth – Ⅲ

What Boat 




What boat now brings you out of darkness

into the swoop of barn swallows?


—We say the swallows are rejoicing

because if we could dart and shimmer


and dive and soar as they do, skimming

the air, we would be rejoicing.


As in this noontime thinking of you,

dotterson or dotterdotter, I am


rejoicing. You rode in her when she curled

in me, you are big as a berry now


with a beating heart. Grasses blow, heavy

with seed. Queen Anne’s lace spreads its snowy


mantles where sunlight warms the wood

that warms my back. This bright and swimming


world will soon be yours. Pollen, thistledown,

hills to the sea in fog below me.


Redwing blackbirds whistling, child.

Sundrunk flies bumbling, buzzing.