Printer Friendly

Proof.

PROOF

   I have no proof of my own fear
   without these: the shoulders
   of the moose crossing our trail
   midday: deadly & indifferent
   to us & the neon cottonwoods
   shocking October. You
   seem already sad & I can't be
   trusted--I double what the recipe
   calls for when it comes to onions.
   I cry & cry & feel cleaned out.
   I have no proof
   without him, the man
   on the motorcycle who died
   within minutes of my father
   finding him on a back road
   in southern Ohio. After the wreck,
   against the fence. He's borrowed
   time before he says & now--
   Addison, eight pounds, is alive
   & thriving, one week new
   to this world in which two
   young boys, strangers,
   offer to help carry my couch & later
   in the same day, a man
   threatens to poison my dog.
COPYRIGHT 2013 Colorado State University
No portion of this article can be reproduced without the express written permission from the copyright holder.
Copyright 2013 Gale, Cengage Learning. All rights reserved.

Article Details
Printer friendly Cite/link Email Feedback
Author:Kramer, Ashley Seitz
Publication:Colorado Review: A Journal of Contemporary Literature
Article Type:Poem
Date:Jun 22, 2013
Words:130
Previous Article:Hound.
Next Article:Same Summer in a Different Year.

Terms of use | Privacy policy | Copyright © 2020 Farlex, Inc. | Feedback | For webmasters