in a clamor, as if rising in a sky beyond the sky.
Often, the language of men does not seem to belong
to human lips. In a house on the edge of a stony field a man
often dreams of a shoreline. Dreams of snow
bleaching the surface of lawns; snow whitening
the roads where even the wind’s gone missing.
On these winter outskirts if there is no wind, no road, the man
thinks he hears darkness ringing in a world that can't be felt.
Often a man wonders who he was before this night.
MAUREEN ALSOP's poems have appeared or are pending in various publications including Words and Images, nthposition, American Poetry Journal, Big Scream, Salzburg Review, Poetry Motel, among others. This is her first appearance in The Adirondack Review.