Then I knew it was dawn through which we passed as through a series of revolving doors backwards into night where the tender red of the pomegranite lit the lamps in the womb, the last morning or the first, the always-not-yet morning where mounted on the horizon the irons we used to brand the animals with their names sank back into the alphabet, and the prows of ancient islands, heroic, lapidary torsos swayed untroubled on the harbor, answering yes to whatever asked, to carpenters’ gloves hanging in clusters from their trellis, to parapets and mines, to the furious mineral silence of the chairs.

CHAD SWEENEY is the author of three books of poetry, Parable of Hide and Seek (Alice James, 2010), Arranging the Blaze (Anhinga, 2009), and An Architecture (BlazeVOX, 2007) and editor of Days I Moved Through Ordinary Sounds: The Teachers of WritersCorps in Poetry and Prose (City Lights, 2009). Sweeney’s work has appeared in Best American Poetry, Crazyhorse, New American Writing, Colorado Review, Black Warrior, and elsewhere. He is coeditor of Parthenon West Review and is working toward a Ph.D. in literature at Western Michigan University in Kalamazoo, where he teaches poetry and serves as assistant editor of New Issues Press.