A Taut String Across the Path

Brendan Galvin Click to read more...

bgalvin-40Brendan Galvin is the author of sixteen volumes of poems. His collection Habitat: New and Selected Poems 1965-2005 (LSU, 2006) was a finalist for the National Book Award. His crime novel, Wash-a-shores, is available on Amazon Kindle.  The Air’s Accomplices, a collection of new poems was released from LSU last year.  His Egg Island Almanac will appear in 2017.

 

between the marsh grass and the dunes,
so I pulled it, though naturally
even out here you tend to wonder
about explosions these days.

Out on the marsh as I tugged
a black-and-white
skull-and-crossbones stood up–a kite
with red and black streamers.

It climbed a little into the air so I saw
I could fly it if I got it high enough
to catch the breeze. And higher.

I had to get it right this time. Running
across Ferry Street sixty-five years ago
my first kite  tore open like gift wrap before
I even got it to the gate of Glendale Park.

This is the way things will go for you,
a thought told me then, but here
at the other end of my string, the dog
dancing around for me to explain myself,

barking for me to tell him what it was,
the skull-and-crossbones dancing
up there too–if this is my banner, so be it.

 

 

 

 

Print Friendly

Discussion

One Response to A Taut String Across the Path

  1. Greg Lobas says:

    I like the tension between prescience and memory. I see the past, present, and future woven here.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *