Until then we were simply on the move,
eyes on the ground, dragging our bodies.
Until then our animals needed water
and our mothers needed rest.
We had dreamed we had not left
but had not dreamed yet of return.
We didn't know it was possible
to keep what's gone longer than
you can keep anything, that regret
and revenge last forever, acid of milk
making acid of milk, curd to curd,
cheese to cheese, forming
your shapeless form and squeezing
your acid tears.
Hang it up, we said at first, when we still could.
Upon the willows in the midst thereof.
For it was beautiful there, the rivers, the willows.
And the harps played music in the willows in the wind.
And we sat down and wept where the rivers join
at the wind that needed us not at all.
©
teaches creative writing at the Maryland Institute College of Art in Baltimore. Her poetry has also appeared or is forthcoming in The Journal, Painted Bride Quarterly, and Valparaiso, among other publications. "Tributary" was first published in The Cape Rock.
We’ve published two more poems by Eisner: “Psalm 137: My Right Hand” and “Psalm 137: Happy.”
