Hot Metal Bridge

Current Issue : Number Twenty-Five

Spare Dream

BY EVA HOOKER

What passes within and tills beneath strangely fleshed
And mutable
 
Like shadow in a winter wood at dusk
What passes without I knew it once where not to look and where
 
For pilings seaweed and shadow line
What passes without words is the unbidden yes unlooked for
 
Claim to spare dream— the between,
And singular annunciation—
 

Witness the still lake in my eye
Lake where witness is ice and thaw
 
You are not simply
This nor even that not sweet milk not red-tailed
 
Hawk shimmering on the power wire
Solitary like bread you fill and bind and rise within the silver hollow
 
Of me determinate and
Soft, softly
 
The water darkens on the graveled stone twice in the night lightening a thin
green line
 

(it would hurt us—were we awake):
and you out of me
 
Like a pale star
yellow and so thickly star—
 
I could not gather you in.
 
 
 

Notes

“Witness the still lake”:  from Dan Beachy-Quick, This Nest, Swift Passerine, p. 3.

“It would hurt us—were we awake”:  from Emily Dickinson, 531.



Eva Hooker is Professor of English and Writer in Residence at Saint Mary’s College, Notre Dame, Indiana. The Winter Keeper, a hand-bound chapbook (Chapiteau Press, Montpelier, Vermont, 2000), was a finalist for the Minnesota Book Award in poetry in 2001. Her poems have recently appeared in The New England Review, Agni, The Harvard Review, Salmagundi, Witness, Drunken Boat, Memorious, Terrain, Redactions and Best New Poets 2008. Her poetry is affected by her experiences of the northland and of Lake Superior.