Megan Gannon – Ⅴ

Late April 

 

 

 

 

teachers lined beneath

low cloud and a high

brightness skittering how like ethereal

litter the wind-caught coats the clattering

jackets flash of red of blue

twittering of a gull’s under-

wing the jumped-from swing

jerking like dropped chain there

are those who say grounded

caged and clipped but battering

against fences just now everything

can be shaken eyes horizoned

and still the world

whirling the axis-tilted tether-

ball scribing ellipses