Everything loosens its grip, the flag
slips down the pole, the girl’s hair
from its clip, and the leaves, of course,
let go to write their elaborate script
in the wind. A white plush horse
rears and bucks on its rockers,
where the wind plays with toys
that no one will keep. In the middle
of the night I’ll let you go sings
the sweet radio. My father let go
and the papers fell as he fell:
he doesn’t hold on, doesn’t hear
except for the bells that will not
stop ringing. He rises to answer
but cannot stay standing. Over
his desk the black and white shore,
framed pebbles and waves. Once he strolled
down that beach, watched the tide
at its work, land relinquish its hold.
Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 15, Issue 2.
Susanna Lang’s newest collection of poems, Tracing the Lines, was published in 2013 by the Brick Road Poetry Press. Her first collection, Even Now, was published in 2008 by The Backwaters Press, and a chapbook, Two by Two, was released in October 2011 from Finishing Line Press.
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