Archive
7.
from Dream Cabinet by Ann Fisher-Wirth
—Sleep, says the sea, sleep, says the sea, the birds
thicken in the trees as light glints across the water.
A breeze. Late afternoon, the light growing pewter,
soft Falun red of the ramshackle summer house
soaking up shadows. Out on the water, a motorboat.
I would like to spend the curve of a year
from bird cherries to mushrooms, svamp, in Sweden.
Trace the circle round through lilacs, king’s-blood-lilies,
lilies of the valley, then blueberries, strawberries,
raspberries, then lingonberries, apples.
To gather them as they ripen, wander along
with that rapt purposeful emptiness, every sense alert
for a glimpse of red or blue, the scrotal sponginess
of puffballs, luminescence of chanterelles.
To know this place in the fullness of its seasons.
And watch the light on water, day after day,
empty out of my everlasting self-regard.
Let the sunlight, fog, or rain have its will with me.
“Dream Cabinet” was published online in its entirety in the special Ecopoetry issue of How2, 2008, and in Rampike: Ecopoetics Issue, Spring 2009.
Ann Fisher-Wirth’s third book of poems, Carta Marina, was published by Wings Press in 2009. Her third chapbook, Slide Shows, placed second in the Finishing Line Chapbook Competition and came out in 2009. With Laura-Gray Street she is coeditor of Ecopoetry: A Contemporary American Anthology, which Trinity University Press will release in 2012. Ann teaches at the University of Mississippi and in the low residency MFA program at Chatham University; also she teaches yoga at Southern Star in Oxford, Mississippi.
Egil’s Lament
(after Egil’s Saga)
Egil was the firesap in the birch tree,
the raven, his ebony wings’ glint,
his croak that opened the underworld—
Egil who walks on two widow-sticks now.
Egil was the meadhorn running amber rivers,
the wolves’ fur rank and steaming beneath fir trees
groaning with snow: Egil now frosted and feeble
needing the old flame.
Egil was the snarl, the fang bared
to summon the enemies, set them wrangling.
Now Egil sits by the hearth, dodging the blows of women.
Time passes tediously, no king to aid him.
Egil was the salt spray, the dolphin,
the ship turned into the wind,
Egil clammy-cock, hair grown ashen.
And Egil was the sharp-toothed sea all luck was lost in.
Ann Fisher-Wirth’s third book of poems, Carta Marina, was published by Wings Press in April 2009. Her third chapbook, Slide Shows, was runner-up in the 2008 Finishing Line Chapbook Contest and was released in December 2009. Her poems have appeared widely in journals, online, and in anthologies, including Starting Today: Poems for the First 100 Days, HOW2, and poetryvlog.com. She teaches at the University of Mississippi, and also teaches yoga at Southern Star in Oxford, Mississippi. Until she broke her knee, she was scheduled to teach in Switzerland and give readings in Sweden this spring.
qarrtsiluni 