MAY/JUNE 2009
Homecoming Dance
The white trees wait like armatures
For rain to build itself against.
In this sense, they resemble me,
Though I await rain secondarily
To your return. Till then I lie
And magnetize the vultures
From the sky to pluck
Their greasy feathers. For your sake
I’m constructing wings out of bent
Remnants of border wire. This way
You’ll recognize me—when I spread
My black contraptions, you will see
Me as I am, a secular phoenix
Parenthesizing everything that moves.
About the Author
Jess Sauer lives in Austin, Texas, where she works as a journalist.
Related Articles
BR Footnote:
Boston Review’s intern blog