November 11, 2007
Out-of-Town Poetry: Amy Fleury
Nemaha County Nocturne
The difficult stars parse the night into silence,
benediction, dream. Between soil and silo thrums
the grammar of grain and all of Kansas rests.
The slender roots of weeds suck at the dirt,
and the listing windmills and ruined barns
lean toward their beginnings. Flowing north,
our river glides through glacial cuts
and those ghosts of primitive sea.
A turtle, overturned dish
of flesh and patience, swims
against history’s blur.
the wind and with
we name it
—Amy Fleury, 2004