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A place for nowhere

by Terry Mulert


When the birds gather
in quiet places
behind the tall black trees
where rivers twist
and lose their shapes
to thirsty rising sand
tomorrow’s rain will bead
in pearls upon their
silky breasts
 
they will rise
like embers in the sky
and fly into the night
 
at the golden hour
I’ll walk alone to the path’s end
past the hole in the cottonwood
filled with darkness and air
 
clay will cake my winter boots
and I will search the flanking
cornfield’s silhouette
for shapes of sadness
planted in the dormant reeds
to feed my dreams
with evidence
and travel to another dawn.

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Terry Mulert is a poet living at the base of the Monzano mountains along the Rio Grande. He has published in California Quarterly, The Madison Review, The Mid-America Poetry Review, Plainsongs (Award Poem), Texas Poetry Review: Borderlands, The Baltimore Review, The Hawai’i Review, Big Scream, The Chiron Review and others.