Falling Fast in the Quiet
Dusk falls over the field as wispy clouds transform into a solid mass. While darkness lingers in bare trees that line the horizon, I try to gather myself. Soon the little lights of cars blink through. All I can do is tell you what I see: now the lights by the faraway school flicker, stars at ground level. My old teacher wrote the self is survivable. I want to add for most. My dark room makes the outside dark appear lighter, yet I can hardly see my roof’s edge against the sky, inside silence so deep it’s ringing.
Kathleen McGookey has published five books of prose poems and four chapbooks, most recently Paper Sky (Press 53) and Cloud Reports (Celery City Chapbooks). She has also published We’ll See, a book of translations of French poet Georges Godeau’s prose poems. Her work has appeared in many journals including Copper Nickel, December, DMQ Review, Epoch, -ette review, Field, Glassworks, Miramar, One, Ploughshares, Prairie Schooner, Quiddity, Waxwing, and The Southern Review, and was featured on American Life in Poetry. She has received grants from the French Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Sustainable Arts Foundation. Her favorite sweet is chocolate chip cookies.
