Looking Down
- Looking Down
This year the town blooms brackishand buildings crack with salt. I thinkI’d sink in an estuary I could swallownow I know that homeis where the lizards frillfor their diamond ladiesand that trees can shed their snakeswhen they get full. But won’t an ordinary hullget thin and rusty? Won’t the sunlight bendour backs and slit our eyes? We all live, I guess,with our decisions. I came to the citylike a clamshell tired of closing.I looked for you like a mangroveclaws below the tide. [End Page 48]
Mary Block is a graduate of New York University’s Creative Writing Program, where she earned her MFA in poetry. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Conduit, Weave, Saw Palm, and Why I Am Not A Painter (an anthology from Argos Books), among other publications. She was a 2012 finalist for a Ruth Lilly Poetry Fellowship from the Poetry Foundation. She lives in Brooklyn, New York with her husband and their dog. www.maryblock.net
