Poetry

The Point

Rosanna Warren

My long shadow paces and the skreak of gulls
hauls evening down and furls it along the edge of the lake.
Waves keep thrusting their political argument.
Resolved: you are not here.
Resolved: wind surges in the cottonwood leaves,
the whole mass billows into the leaky sky
flailing toward an almost invisible horizon.
Nothing is resolved.

The trees are amateur actors, their gestures too large.
Fending off, holding out, concrete blocks of the breakwater
stud the shore … Not to let that vast
crushingness roar in, that inland sea.
Civic wastebaskets guard the day’s relics,

the small bronze drinking fountain is dry.
And is your not being here different
from my absentmindedness, or yours, when we sit together,
or walk, each absorbed in private weather?
The discipline it takes, to keep these pathways tidy.
And night leans in to erase the map.

Rosanna Warren is the author of several collections of poetry, including Earthworks: Selected Poems, Ghost in a Red Hat, and Departure.
Originally published:
April 1, 2018

Featured

Essays

Communalism in the Veld

Rethinking property in South Africa
Glen Retief

Fiction

The Front House

Cord Jefferson

Books

The Sublime Modes of Sheila Heti

The novelist as philosopher
Noreen Khawaja

You Might Also Like

Poetry

Darklight

Rosanna Warren

Poetry

Wasps

Louise Glück

Essays

Everything Bright Is Something Burned

How to mourn a planet
Erica Berry

Newsletter

Sign up for The Yale Review newsletter and keep up with news, events, and more.