Steven Rood © 2003 All Rights Reserved
Dark View of Lake Michigan at Night
It is difficult to see
This bodied water as ours,
It is a hard knowing
That winkles the coelom celestious,
For who wants to turn away?
Our eyes are not holes,
Nor silences our hearts.
We metaphysical athletes,
Gathered for the tensile futility of action,
We like the crunch of boot
In winterís grind;
The failed scheme enchants us,
Like the break of icy waves on frozen sands.
It is difficult to mind the
Glass-crash of winter wave
As our covert cry, returning. To us,
This large water is nightís bride
In a marriage that annihilates two,
For one, and freezes the eye.
Being athletes, we prefer defeats
That leave us leastwise to ourselves,
And trudge away.
Copyright © 2004
Steve Kirchhoff lives with his family in Montana. His poetry has appeared in Wind Magazine, Literary Review, American Poets and Poetry, the Midwest Quarterly, and others. He is waiting for the rule of philosophy.Contents Next Poem Guidelines