This poem is taken from PN Review 51, Volume 13 Number 1, September - October 1986.

The Lecture

Lauris Edmond

I am just going downstairs to where
I shall tell them lies. Up here
at the window the maple trees' shadow

fingers the indigo dusk and the fireflies
carry their tiny cargoes of light
up, down, right to the ground, then

almost over the high branches again
riding their currents of bark-scented dark
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