A Question of Months

    Every season has its simple vision     It’s a woodpecker

when the head moves     Pears ripen in dishwasher steam

  The fence on the swampy part falls you can walk on it

Broken tail light painted red     Roof you can jump from

    Tape painted over     To treat exclusively the incurable

  This opens the mouth from inside


    I outlived memoir     It’s like angels’ obsession with flight

It’s all flight to angels     Hit the roots against the shed

  and that was that     Onion grass and ice in the river

it also is     I meditate when nothing else will do

    Been meditating more     Petals mistaken for rocks falling

  I heard the falling sound and ran and turned


Zach Savich is the author of eight books of poetry and prose, including Daybed (Black Ocean, 2018). Recent work has appeared in A Dozen NothingAlways CrashingFull Stop, andthe Georgia Review. He teaches at the Cleveland Institute of Art.

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