In the lunar house it will be obvious which trees have spherical leaves, why it is hard to pinpoint the faraway olive, the near birch. Once I was swimming in quarantine day after day. Is writing writing it down? There must be a lot unsaid even to start.
Current of the lake is swift like a river Is it a river? I ask but no one says yes or no one knows because it is a lake that merges w/other lakes I ask for a map but none appears Present location for 9 more days: up Highway 129 north of Thessalon, Ontario north of U. S., Undone States N O R T H Nearly Out of Reach, she Talks to Herself Border guards will call every day, they said, but haven’t yet. I make a list: 2 moose 1 loon the single constant chipmunk multiple birds no boats except a metal row & old blue kayak cloud sky Water lilies not to be told but a loon comes around Two parts of land are connected by a log bridge from the 40s falling down On this side the water’s called something On that side the water’s called something else All five lakes are connected, or one big waterbody has five names Beavers make another lake across the highway & across a meadow, which is mown The five lakes are: Wakomata, furthest east Jobammageeshig Huston, barely connecting to Blue Heaven (a sixth?) Chub Little Chub The name of the biggest, Jobammageeshig, is said so fast that only the first syllable’s clear to the settler or visiting ear There’s a “Crown plate” nailed to a post: Plate # 1024389
On the water,
five blue dragonflies lightest boat In the water every detail, one by one 11th day in the eye-shaped curve of the layered rock, one may be permitted to be with it (butterfly on rock wall) but not go toward Don’t imagine anything you know
D A W N T O D U S K
Dear Anyone With or Without Names To Open Day-and-night Unselving with Shushing wind at however many Knots
Loons last night (I almost wrote lunes) both to the east of me (across the lake) and to the west of me (in the woods) Then this morning (dawn was red), loons again for the last full day, same as last week day after day Now a loon to the north sounds excited about something Maybe fill in words you see: L O O N [with] Letters One by One Nearly present Off you go
LISA FISHMAN‘s most recent book of poetry is Mad World, Mad Kings, Mad Composition (Wave Books, 2020). Her debut collection of stories, World Naked Bike Ride, has just been published by Gaspereau Press. She has new poetry in Granta and recent prose in Guesthouse and The Rupture. She lives in Orfordville, Wisconsin, and teaches at Columbia College Chicago.
Artwork by David Dodd Lee.
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