To make winter – Sean Cho A.
*shook the oaks leaf- bare, * raked the soft soil then * planted pine saplings for*. Now we have January forever. Just like * wanted. [Result: the river is not a river anymore. Repetition has a way of making even the most brilliant miracles seemingly vanish: the heart of a ice trapped frog waiting to thaw back to life, ice coated river weeds warming in the mouth of a witless goose. ] * want to go there, * want it to be spring so we could go to the river and throw smooth rocks at our reflections, *’d watch * watch them ripple back together then you’d take my hand and say something about starting all over. Key: **: you/I [ River Noun: a large stream of flowing water]
Sean Cho A. is an MFA candidate at the University of California Irvine. His work can be ignored or future-found in Salt Hill, The Portland Review, RHINO, and elsewhere. He is a staff reader for Ploughshares. Sean’s manuscript Not Bilingual was a finalist for the Write Bloody Publishing Poetry Prize. He can be found @phlat_soda