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Eco, and: Atoll

Eco, and: Atoll BRUCE BOND Two Poems eco e o Th ther member of this conversatio n is the forest we are in, the one that is here and not quite here, not the woods we k new when we were young and lost and elsewhere. I too have a new face and the faceless w ound it floats on, the long loneliness for power to salvage some broken friend or o cean. Just when I thought I was alone again, my limbs take on the look of skies on fir e, as planets do, and monks, and drunken men whose vague unease is longing to be sh ared. Even the best convictions dream the damaged world that says, I know, I too am wo rried. e o Th ther voice among us is a certain change in the wind. And once, when I was youn g, I heard it speak. And in its speaking, listen. 15 atoll e s Th hovels of the last war h ere take on, in time, a phantom life. All night the slough of rock, s teel, unclaimed bone, the dull heft and pallor of silt, raised, tur ned, released, and raised again as dust. An http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Manoa University of Hawai'I Press

Eco, and: Atoll

Manoa , Volume 31 (1) – May 10, 2019

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Publisher
University of Hawai'I Press
Copyright
Copyright © 2019 University of Hawai'i Press.
ISSN
1527-943x

Abstract

BRUCE BOND Two Poems eco e o Th ther member of this conversatio n is the forest we are in, the one that is here and not quite here, not the woods we k new when we were young and lost and elsewhere. I too have a new face and the faceless w ound it floats on, the long loneliness for power to salvage some broken friend or o cean. Just when I thought I was alone again, my limbs take on the look of skies on fir e, as planets do, and monks, and drunken men whose vague unease is longing to be sh ared. Even the best convictions dream the damaged world that says, I know, I too am wo rried. e o Th ther voice among us is a certain change in the wind. And once, when I was youn g, I heard it speak. And in its speaking, listen. 15 atoll e s Th hovels of the last war h ere take on, in time, a phantom life. All night the slough of rock, s teel, unclaimed bone, the dull heft and pallor of silt, raised, tur ned, released, and raised again as dust. An

Journal

ManoaUniversity of Hawai'I Press

Published: May 10, 2019

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