By MARC VINCENZ
It seems all the light of morning
has descended here where it’s usually dark
and frogs raise their heads in the bulrushes,
where the last sounds swarm among the oaks.
Weighing these few scraps, the things you’ve said
you leapt gardens to procure—there are still
more feathers on this side—hard work,
all that feather versus fodder. Tomorrow—
what a difficult word—interrupted and intercepted;
and tomorrow, all that we imagined.
Careful.
The universe has ears.
Marc Vincenz is a multilingual translator, poet, fiction writer, journalist, editor, musician, and artist. His recent poetry collections include The Pearl Diver of Irunmani, A Splash of Cave Paint, The King of Prussia is Drunk on Stars, Faery Ecology, and (forthcoming in 2026) No More Animal Poems. He translates from the German, Romanian, French, and Spanish.
