The Quarry

Coda

Coda Wellfleet, July 6, 2001 A confusion of geraniums on the kitchen table, sunlight shafting and pooling, these instances of red fierce as the death of animals in agony, the sun’s teeth on the throat— What are these leaves but hands thrust upward, outward? And now the moving pitcher spills the morning’s silver on the windowsills. The room is intensely quiet: as though the one who left will not come back. He will not come back. 56 You are reading copyrighted material published by Ohio University Press/Swallow Press. Unauthorized posting, copying, or distributing of this work except as permitted under U.S. copyright law is illegal and injures the author and publisher. ...