What have I done in the time I've had?
Half of what I might have done.
The wind has cut the snowbanks back,
curved their corners, freed some branches,
and in all that time all I've managed
is not to talk about love.
The canvasbacks are busy eating.
They yank the reeds that clog the current
and feed on the delicate, knuckled roots.
If I dove down to black-shell bottom,
what would I find?
Daniel Wolff has published in The Paris Review and Partisan Review, among others. His latest book is How Lincoln Learned To Read. The poem appearing here is from a collection in progress, The Names of Birds. Visit him at his website.
"Canvasback" appeared in our Winter 2011 issue, The Rogue Idea.
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