By Caki Wilkinson Caki Wilkinson
A yarn ball and a hill   
maintain an equipoise until   
         their neatness starts to bore the gods   
                   of potential and energy   
         who hedge bets, reckoning the odds   
                   of when the rest will be   

set in motion, and who,   
first stumbling upon this clew,   
          constructed both the incline and   
                   the inclination to unwind.   
          Like most gods, though, they haven’t planned   
                   to stay; they mastermind   

the scheme, ex nihilio,   
then slip behind the shadow show   
          and designate an agent, chief   
                   remaker of their mischief made.   
          Each time, disguised, this leitmotif   
                   gets salvaged and replayed,   

a universe begins,   
for orogens and origins   
          suppose a Way Things Were before   
                   some volatile, untimely That—   
          sweetness perverted by the core   
                   or belfry by the bat,   

or here, a hilly green,   
whose still life, eerily serene,   
          completes their best contrivance yet:   
                   from high above, a williwaw,   
          a hiss, and then the silhouette   
                   of one terrific paw.

Source: Poetry (December 2008).


This poem originally appeared in the December 2008 issue of Poetry magazine

December 2008


Caki Wilkinson's poems have appeared in the Atlantic Monthly, Black Warrior Review, Southwest Review, and elsewhere, She is a PhD candidate at the University of Cincinnati.

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Poems by Caki Wilkinson

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