The Commons
an elegy for multiple voices

Splinters of river shell
where once words pooled
patient, tidal.

[In] the place where once we dwelled

Scattered among fish and lizard bones
they skittle each time crab-bubbles
break the skein of silence—

[at] the shore where once we saw

each sudden percussion
echoing
throughout the stand.

[in] the grove where once we danced

I want to tell you: don’t be afraid
but capital keeps feeding our shadows
quicker than our becoming.

[in] the valley where once we lived

In this day’s dim light
its gaze remains
unwavering.

[in] the sky that once we read

Confidence falters
where once was sung
heron, mud skipper, spiny ant-plant.

[on] the sea where once we sailed

Each a unique note
of the commons. Now the chorus holds
having become reed thin—

[in] the air that once we breathed

tongue-tied
as Darling fish
bloat in withered stream,

the lake where once we drank

or float like boulders loosed
by flood
remembering seeps away.

[in] the woods where once we were

Brigades of decay—
each pass sparks another ending.

where once we shared becoming
where once we shared becoming
where once we shared becoming