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There are eight pawns, like a city. They are babies cast down the river. The knights disappear into an L-shaped darkness, two fiery preachers. Each bishop drives drunk in sideways rain. Rooks turn their collars up, muffle doubtful sighs. The one king resurrects slowly. The queen plays dead, is a stubborn ghost.
-- Lindsay Daigle
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Radio
I left it
on when I
left the house
for the pleasure
of coming back
ten hours later
to the greatness
of Teddy Wilson
"After You've Gone"
on the piano
in the corner
of the bedroom
as I enter
in the dark
from New and Selected Poems by David Lehman
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