Sunday, August 28, 2022

New Poetry by Ben Schroeder










Speech

Wind only sounds when there is something 
to sound against. What I meant

when I said in the thistle patch catching fireflies:
there’s no light without the dark. What did you mean 

when you said there’s still flight, the wind
sings through the canyon, through the valley, 
the lightbug flies by day?

I say look at the edges, 
the cut: the mountain against the sky,
the frame of the gulch, the wind sings
rattling the frame, the noonday 
firefly is just a fly. Look at my mouth.


- © Ben Schroeder 2022


Ben Schroeder is a poet from Wisconsin currently living in Madrid, Spain, where he works as a language assistant. His poetry has appeared in The Tower (formerly Ivory Tower), and his reviews have appeared in The Wake and Great River Review. He can be found on Twitter at @bschroederpoet.

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