[That]
That this is the morning in which nothing much
that the sky is still there and the water dresses
accordingly that only at night does the water rest
vanish from sight that the stars are too small too far
to register there that all our names too are writ
invisibly on water that abiding requires more hope
than I can possibly acquire that hope is not a thing
with feathers that hope is a thing with a fist a thin
crust sketched over oceans that hope is what despair
uses for bait come in hope says the water's fine
that hope is the blood with which you write letters
that start dear sea dear ocean stop asking so fucking
much that hope is a telegram delivered by men
in pairs men in uniform a telegram that says missing
stop that says once again presumed lost stop
Copyright Credit: Leslie Harrison, "[That]" from The Book of Endings. Copyright © 2017 by Leslie Harrison. Reprinted by permission of University of Akron Press.
Source: The Book of Endings (University of Akron Press, 2017)