top of page

Old Blues

Astride the rumble strip with hazard lights on,
all-American fields, non-denominational grief.

The hawk and the trowel, the oar and the lock,
acetaminophen, Auld Lang Syne.

It will take a lifetime to understand the scratches
around the coin slot, the last time I kissed the top

of your head. Goodnight, North Carolina, scarlet
and water, pin and post. Death will uncover

your love, wind conducting the throb, cattle cars
breaking up the lamplight like film, a bit of satisfaction.

You are standing where I cannot see beyond,
all the world’s baubles burning the backs

of your eyes. Laws fold in on themselves—rot
in the woodpile, shovel rust—feed back, repeat.

Michael Metivier is a poet, editor, and songwriter whose work has appeared recently in Kenyon Review, Prairie Schooner, Poetry, and Orion. His long poem "Glacial, Erratic" was published in 2022 by Columba as half of a split chapbook with Erín Moure. He lives in Vermont with his wife and daughters, and is an editor at Merriam-Webster.

bottom of page