Of course a quilt is a house—
And of course you can become so enamored
with an image that you become it:
like the snow all over town
and like the snow
all over town you become it.
You have far-reaching talent for
mass appeal and for sending a few thousand birds
a few thousands miles south. And when it is March
you might even melt a bit but you are last
to tuck us in at night
and last to think a thought we wish we had:
what we croon is what we have a deed to, and the deed
is some thing we think we thought we always had.
First appeared in Fou. Reprinted with permission from Adam Clay.
Adam Clay is the author of The Wash. His second book, A Hotel Lobby at the Edge of the World, is forthcoming from Milkweed Editions. He co-edits Typo Magazine, curates the Poets in Print Reading Series at the Kalamazoo Book Arts Center, and teaches at Western Michigan University.