By Noelle Kocot

This shade is deafening.
The river, as it ebbs

Sings a pretty song.
Veils over the city, I

Gather up my skirts.
It is not too late for joy,

And the mornings with
Their sleek trees at the edges

Of metallic grass, striped
With rainwater is all blurry.

I long to tell you of these
Floods that once were.

Noelle Kocot, “Trappings" from God’s Green Earth. Copyright © 2020 by Noelle Kocot. Reprinted by permission of The Permission Company LLC, on behalf of the author and Wave Books.