“From things about to disappear I turn away in time” (Samuel Beckett)
Was it snow or milk hooked to the rock or streaming
over its blind eye milk or snow draining
from that rock Or was it a loose milky scrawl a snowlit shawl
Would it ever fill a mouth A soldier writes the first words
in your book his eyes too choked for light or dark
Where is our language? Where are our gods?
His wrist- bone bordered by dark delicate hairs slightly bent as he writes his brother’s name in tiny letters
How did the rock hook the milk how did it hoax the snow
to topple over it soften the grief obliterate the rage
Or was that the milk no one could drink fume and gag
In your civilian light you spoke to the soldier who wrote
in your book Where is our language? Where our gods?
In your yellow book he wrote the first words You felt
a conversion in the air around the stools you each sat on
draped tent flap of air without conversation In each glass
of shaken ice was something colder
rock-cold The soldier’s life was dependent on your strangeness
Too much cost in the field of stars Risk had hardened
his shadow Snow and milk the white sand in the desert
where he was stationed
“There were hundreds of bottles lodged in the wall” he exclaimed
“in New Zealand” “Misty green as Middle Earth” “Anything
you’d want there” he cried his eyes remaining colorless
“a spigot for each bottle a cup for each drop” You watched him then
in New Zealand stumbling blackly out into a violet light his shirt loose
Each drop a bullet in a cup meant for milk His eyes offered neither
exit nor entrance They were Middle Earth You were Rock and Milk and Snow
He spoke and spoke across the space between you the air drifted and crumpled
“I want to be a teacher” he said flatly All that was missing
from his words was his mouth What was missing from his eyes
his eyes too choked for language or for gods
Alessandra Lynch is the author of three books, most recently Daylily Called It a Dangerous Moment (winner of the Balcones Prize, finalist for the LA Book Awards). She has received several fellowships, including residencies at Yaddo and the Macdowell Colony. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in the American Poetry Review, Kenyon Review, Ploughshares, and elsewhere. Currently she serves as Poet-in-Residence at Butler University in Indianapolis.