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Like Something in His Handwriting
- Wesleyan University Press
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C. D. Wright | 395 Like Something in His Handwriting It was hotter back then. No, it wasn’t it had to be cooler, clouded. A park down below where no one ever met. But men were pulled by dogs along paths made by the walkers. And a nameless river through a photograph of woods proposed a non-local reality that shimmered at the instant of its own disappearance. She bought the picture, brought it back, propped it against drywall where someone had penciled a message she couldn’t make out. The end of another summer wandered across yards that weren’t fenced or watered. If it rained, it rained. And then the rain inebriated us. A yellow leaf floated toward ground transmitting a spot of optimism through a slow intensification of color in the lower corner of the morning. ...