ANCHOR

by cate lycurgus

there was no future to speak of.

even the race there

 

was cancelled. as was all flying

east—we didn’t have

 

a machine for that—so suspended 

for hours in window

 

seats, as light hit each river &

runnel, we watched shine

 

pass aqueduct to gulley, coursing

the country’s veins. it might

 

falter a minute in cloud till

some gulch takes the hand

 

off—: body of water to body.

& who doesn’t want now

 

—a once ugly word—to relay

unchanged? I am redbud &

 

purple out from nothing.

the blue. ribbons

 

wave a length away so I crouch

for the blind transfer

 

patient—like dried limas huddle,

soaked—see, this is

 

the moment. same as if I had

already met you

 

& I would have nothing to say.

time to break. no

 

distance to make up—imagine:

our mouths, already

 

placed

Cate Lycurgus’s poetry has appeared in Best American Poetry 2020, American Poetry Review, Tin House, Best New Poets 2019, and elsewhere. Cate lives south of San Francisco, California, where she interviews for 32 Poems and teaches writing. You can find her at www.catelycurgus.com

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