On Foot

By DIANE THIEL

 

(after a line by Edith Södergran)

On foot, I had to cross the galaxy.
I left without luggage or gear, knowing
nothing I had would be of use out there.
It felt long, but I can’t say quite how long. 
Time unfolds in space, and I soon realized
this wasn’t the average pilgrimage.
I grew thankful for the unexpected

wormholes, useful to cover some distance.
I can’t say what I needed to retrieve,
or even if, when, or where I left it.
It is a secret, kept even from me,
and frankly I’m not sure anyone will
believe this story anyway. At first,
I kept my path as far as I could from

the dark matter, though it was always there,
and I wished I could understand it more.
But once I recognized the energy
those expansions could release or create,
I knew I could take it back to the shore,
finding the swell of that particle wave
and all the light in the dark of deep space.

 

 

Diane Thiel is the author of eleven books of poetry and nonfiction. A new book of poetry, Questions from Outer Space, is forthcoming from Red Hen Press in spring 2022. Her work has appeared widely in journals such as The Hudson Review and Poetry and is reprinted in over sixty major anthologies. Thiel received her undergraduate and graduate degrees from Brown University, and she is a Regents’ Professor at the University of New Mexico. Her awards include PEN, NEA and Fulbright awards. Learn more at DianeThiel.net.

[Purchase Issue 23 here.]

From the beginning, The Common has brought you transportive writing and exciting new voices. We are committed to supporting writers and maintaining free, unrestricted access to our website, but we can’t do it without you. Become an integral part of our global community of readers and writers by donating today. No amount is too small. Thank you!

On Foot

Related Posts

Cover of All Is The Telling by Rosa Castellano

An Embodied Sense of Time: Raychelle Heath Interviews Rosa Castellano

ROSA CASTELLANO
I’m holding a blank page all the time for myself. That’s a truth that I choose to believe in: the blank page is a tool for our collective liberation. It can be how we keep going. I love that we can find each other on the page and heal each other, too. So, I invoke that again and again, for myself, because I need it.

Cloudy sunset over field.

Florida Poems

EDWARD SAMBRANO III
I will die in Portland on an overcast day, / The Willamette River mirroring clouds’ / Bleak forecast and strangers not forgetting— / Not this time—designer raincoats in their closets. / They will leave for work barely in time / To catch their railcars. It will happen / On a day like today.