The 2River View 17.4 (Summer 2013)

Kip Knott

Elegy for Someone yet to Die

Buildings lean a little
toward the moon as it slips
quietly out of the city

swallowing stars as it rises.
I skim its reflection
on an oily puddle with my feet,

breaking it into halves
then quarters, one phase
spilling into the next,

marking this moment
of my life in slices of light
added, then subtracted.


In these woods,
elms drunk on rain
step out of their bark
and cry for you.

Are you hiding in the light
of invisible animals?
A blue jay cackles
as if it knows.

The steady voice of an oil well asks
Where? Where?

In the distance, the brittle Ohio
breaks and the throats
of smokestacks choke on stars.

Darkness blossoms in bare trees.
I hear you calling
from the white cave
of this page.

Kip Knott is the author of four collections of poetry, the most recent being Afraid of Heaven (Mudlark). His poetry has most recently appeared in Four and Twenty and Right Hand Pointing. contact