Visiting Poets
Camille Dungy
Select Poems
Between raindrops,
space, certainly,
but we call it all rain.
I hang in the undrenched intervals,
while Callie is sleeping,
my old self necessary
and imperceptible as air.
From TROPHIC CASCADE (Wesleyan Poetry Series, 2017)
in her sleep
in the passenger seat
at the wheel
slipped on ice
pulled under the pond
by the hands of a stranger
by the hands of a lover
by her own hands
her heart
due to complications
surrounded by family
after long illness
we don’t yet know why
we didn’t know it would happen
this soon
From TROPHIC CASCADE (Wesleyan Poetry Series, 2017)
Does she sleep through the night?
I hate to wake you so early,
but I had to tell you
this dream.
There were only seven trees left in the world
and the largest grew in your backyard.
From TROPHIC CASCADE (Wesleyan Poetry Series, 2017)