The Coal Life: Poems

Epilogue and Return

Epilogue and Return “The whole universe is full.” —Tomas Tranströmer A waning moon spreads its last light across the Warrior River where slash pines have given way to beetles and rot. The homestead chimney has crumbled into itself: a cairn for skinks and deer mice. On high ground next to the trash heap, a slider backs her rear into a hole she dug. Every ten minutes or so a ping-pong ball breeches and drops. At dusk, she kicks back dirt with her hind legs and waddles down to the muddy slough, never looking back until next spring when she will claw at this hill again. Barges heaped with coal lumber through another oxbow. Trains wail their way home. 67 ...