Totem (Truong Chi)

Gregory Pardlo

Fog banded the marsh beside
her window. Shaved
ice, pekoe tea. Enameled
finger softened by the crystal, she
could almost hear me sigh.

Could almost see my song still eddy,
voiceless, counter to the silken tide,
the river breaking silence, woken,
pages on the water where I died.


Last updated December 12, 2022