We
Annah Browning

The lamps on the marsh come out
bit by bit -- you hear

them humming, year one,
year one. In the time

of our Lord's beseeching,
we listened like blind

men, for the shells
cracking, the bugs to sing.

And we all went, of course,
of course. This is what

we knew. That the animals
born with the extra eyes

wore them blindly -- a new thing --
the flood that fills us before

the water can begin.

1996 © 2012