…With curious hope, with pain
I’ve tried to catch what I used to be,
…Floating beneath the locust tree
At our prairie farm, on a rain-cured plank.
………….I’d sound out clouds, and fly
…………….With the birds, swinging so high
………….I kicked the sky
…And it kicked me back. The branch broke
And I landed on my shoulder blades and tail,
…Fists still gripping still-hitched rope,
And I heaved and heaved, the sky opaque.
………….Locust tree, you meant no harm,
…………….So I swing here from your other arm,
………….Still your fool, your pendulum.
Jesse Nathan
Jesse Nathan’s poems appear in The Paris Review, Kenyon Review, The Yale Review, and elsewhere. He’s a lecturer in the English Department at UC Berkeley, and lives in Oakland.
Also by Jesse Nathan (see all)
- Swing Song - October 30, 2021
- My Career on the Boards - May 30, 2021
