Involute, by Ann Lauterbach

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By Ann Lauterbach, from a manuscript in progress. Lauterbach has published nine volumes of poetry, including, most recently, Under the Sign (2013).

An impermeable layer gardens

the sleuth patch, guarded and sworn

into rescue, or mission. The quaint

untranslatable song

forsaking its mild page, unfaithful as ever.

I’m dressed in clouds and they

are smirking at the edge

of late-age homilies, and the poor star

unable to grant its mania to the end of day.

Some patches of seared light, some

plain domestic blues.

There is a stray sense to the air, wind

announcing the eternal

as through an open window, a sister’s face.

Things being fetched from afar, from the


that gathers any single

into any amount; piles of them, unanchored,

blown every which way.

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