![]() |
|||||
|
~ Delta Poetry Review ~ |
|||||
|
Amy Pence |
|||||
|
Metamorphosis
I run through Prague looking for a straightaway along the Vltava
River, yet
Cobblestoned paths steer me to abrupt dead-ends: a riverside café
where proprietors
Have set out their tables, a too-brief park where a few lone men
bend to their trash-bag
Belongings. I am not them, yet I am a part. Crossing Chekhov Bridge,
I wind past
Tagged freight cars—the name Megan snailed into creature—arrive at
the Kafka Museum.
His coal dark eyes and oracle shadows incise me, pare me like a
flute. What he wrote in
The Trial those final days precede the trains to Terezín. As if, and
as a matter of course,
Words always precede our histories. What’s past courses the pulled
shadows on water.
The just-perceived winds closer— granular, cellular. Among
changelings, I run
At half-speed now: flesh to turbulent wings to the sound of wings on
nothing.
Amy Pence
authored two full-length poetry collections and the hybrid [It]
Incandescent
(Ninebark Press)—as well as two chapbooks. Her most recent is
Your Posthumous Dress from dancing girl press. Her newest
collection will be published by Serving House Books in 2025 and her
novel YELLOW will be published by Red Hen Press in 2026. She’s a
freelance tutor in Atlanta and has taught poetry at Emory and in
other workshop settings. |
|||||
|