Lavonne J. Adams is the author of Through the Glorieta Pass (Pearl Editions, 2009), and two award-winning chapbooks. She has published in more than fifty literary journals, including The Missouri Review, The Southern Poetry Review, BLIP and Poet Lore. She has completed residencies at the Harwood Museum of Art, the Helene Wurlitzer Foundation and the Vermont Studio Center, and is the MFA Coordinator at the University of North Carolina Wilmington.
Like a woman exposing a shoulder, the river flashes
tan banks below the water line, and stones once submerged
create fans of current on the water’s surface. Two ducks
that courted beneath the bridge have moved upstream
to deeper water. I hadn’t considered the bounty necessary
to keep this [...]
At first, I thought hail was pummeling the roof,
but there was no sluice of rain. On the deck,
only the tan of damp.
As February unclenches, we gain
two luminous minutes a day.
Then, a scratching like squirrels runnelling
along the eaves. Outside my house, a flock
had descended — what [...]
At one spot, pavement has been gnawed away
by stress and weather, framing the river
churning beneath. As you stand in the center,
try not to think how time has ground away the railing,
exposing metal-work at the cement’s core. Rust eats
like a cancer at each truss. Two huge backhoes,
At first, signs were small: a crust of bread
inside the silverware drawer, a chunk of cookie.
But my son was toddling, so I shrugged
aside what little blame there was. Then,
a gnawed corner on a five-pound bag of flour
set on a chest-high shelf. Instinct knew
what I refused to name until I [...]