Is this happiness or oyster-life?
This flexing of muscular torso-foot
joy’s wonder? This sifting of silt
from food in the shifting chill-dark?
If, in my mind, there is a life of flight
in the light beyond the over-swirl,
must I unfix my lips from this rock
to be right? Or is my apex to worry
quartz against my shell?
Source: Poetry (July/August 2008).
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This poem originally appeared in the July/August 2008 issue of Poetry magazine
Stephen O’connor is the author of Rescue (1989), Will My Name Be Shouted Out? (1997), and Orphan Trains. He teaches in the MFA programs of Columbia University and Sarah Lawrence College.
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