The Adirondack Review
FALL 2017
Two Poems
Threshing Out Time 

All those nights before you left, 
the wild resolutions of wind in the hay. 
Now the trussed and spaced-out bales 
are the field getting packed and walking away.

Red Light on Palm

Sunset. The heavy stink of lounging seals 
is a layer of sand on my nose and tongue. 
A dolphin performs its moon-arch cartwheels 
between two elements. We sit among

these indifferent wonders on a blanket, 
facing the painted Pacific. San Diego. 
Our child swelling in your belly. Each rung 
of the flamed clouds a line in sanskrit 

I can’t translate. Forget the demands of ego.
Forget like the painted sea forgets itself 
and the color that made it luminous a second ago.
To freeze transience is the duty of the poet

but that is more curse than instruction. A shelf 
of fire disappears into whatever the sea conceals. 
I’ll tell my child, it’s through absence that God reveals. 
I’ll tell him: whenever something vanishes, thank it.

ALEXANDER MILLER JR. is a staff writer for The Curator and the co-author of A Bow From My Shadow, a collection of poems written in dialogue with poems by Luke Irwin. His essays and poems have appeared in The Millions, The Conversation, Transpositions, Pif, The Curator, The Denver Syntax, Lake Effect, and Kenagain. He is a Lecturer in Western Literature at Gordon College in Wenham, MA, and an English and Rhetoric teacher.