Poem of the Week

Whatever tides you are swimming against this week, we hope you take time to read this and allow things to "resolve themselves." The poem of the week is "The River" by Harry Clifton, from the Wake Forest Series of Irish Poetry Volume One (2005). We are looking forward to releasing Volume Three later this year.

The River

When I was angry, I went to the river—
New water on old stones, the patience of pools.
Let the will find its own pace,
Said a voice inside me
I was learning to believe,

And the rest will take care of itself.
The fish were facing upstream, tiny trout
Suspended like souls, in their aquaeous element.
I and my godlike shadow
Fell across them, and they disappeared.

All this happened deep in the mountains—
Anger, trout, and shadow
With the river flowing through them.
Far away, invisible but imagined,
Was an ancient sea, where things would resolve themselves.

-Harry Clifton