Adam Schelle

 

Colfax Avenue

            And walking to the edge of the roof,
trying to feel less at home.
            Good intentions, though;
good intentions, good
                   intentions: a birch limb
holding one starling.
                        On days like this, whenever
it is—now, maybe?—I start
            to suspect I am either
made of rising water
            or the burnt edges of a Wednesday,
tasting only some of it,
      the glass afterthought in the center.
Outside the fence line
of a Frank Lloyd Wright house
                        I find a worn out dime
            from 1947 and realize that
someone, somewhere
    is carving their own name into their own arm
as if it’s tired of itself; that
                        somewhere, a weather system
    is tempted to take a life,
a cold front to be a foot upon a throat—
            I don’t know if I’m allowed
to think of it any other way,
                                    so I try not to.
Now, sitting,
            at what seems more
        like a kitchen table than before,
you ask if I’ve ever mistaken you for a finch or a dove.
                       To answer your question: yes,
but I can’t remember which one it was.
 
 
 


ADAM SCHELLE is a student of English at Indiana University South Bend, focusing in creative writing, and will be pursuing a MFA in poetry in the fall of 2018. His work explores subjects ranging from love and relationship to war, domestic mundanity, Midwest imagination, and existentialism; pushing the boundaries of language and imagery in order to deconstruct and rebuild perceptions of, and emotional responses to, words on a page. His most recent work has appeared in Analecta, as well as other academic journals.


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