Poetry 2013 / Volume 44

Discovery — Robert M. Randolph


In a lakeside cabin
on a rainy night, I sit under a pull-chain bulb
drinking tea. The door
stands open.
Adele sings
on the radio. Her voice
sounds like polished jade. Rain falls on the lake, as if just discovering this world.


Earlier I found a deer skull
by the north cove.

I knelt
and felt its smoothness,
moving one finger around the eye socket.
Near us, the lake shone
like a mirror.

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