by Farrah Field
Winner of the
2007 Levis Poetry Prize
selected by Tony Hoagland
paper, 72 pages, $15.95
IN LECOMPTE BAYOU
Snakes hang like fingers in branches,
claw through humidity, then S away.
This is your introduction to Spanish moss
and duckweed. You want to stand
on the cut-trees below the surface.
You want to ask, Have you ever?
The rower doesn’t say much, but is in
definite dialogue. As you are.
Friends told you his mother was a nurse
in Vietnam and made this boat herself.
He stares as if he sees your nipples.
Who first noticed his calloused hands.
As he heaves the boat along, you’re sure
he stole your missing rabbit. The paddles
hit the water: trust, lift, gleam, trust.