Not, this time, to infer
but to wait you out
between regret and parking lot
somewhere in the day
like a dare
Salt grime and the foodcarts’
rising steam, at Prospect St. a goshawk
huge and aloof, picking at something,
nested in twigs and police tape
for a while we all
held our phones up
It is relentless, the suddenness
of every other
song, creature, neighbor
as though this life
would prove you
only by turning into itself
Source: Poetry (February 2012).
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This poem originally appeared in the February 2012 issue of Poetry magazine
Nate Klug was born in Minnesota, grew up in Wellesley, Massachusetts, and earned a BA in English at the University of Chicago. In 2010 he was awarded a Ruth Lilly Fellowship by the Poetry Foundation.
Klug is a Master of Divinity student at Yale Divinity School and a candidate for ordained ministry in the United Church of Christ. His poems and reviews have appeared in the Christian Century, Literary Imagination, Poetry, the Yale . . .
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