American Culture · American Literature · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Excerpt · Fragment · Passage · Poetry

Bob Hicok

Once she even kissed the scar on his neck,
           felt the pulse against her lips,
cadence of his obstinate flesh,
           and knew then he’d always remain
the quiet preceding thunder,
           the silence which flows
before the many voices
           of the fleeting rain.

— Bob Hicok, from “Nurse,” The Legend of Light (University of Wisconsin Press, 1995)

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s