
Poetry by Eric Stiefel
In the beginning, the world didn’t extend outside my field of view.
First snow, then new leaves. I wanted you to be the
I was in and of, from, and also so-and-such. When touched, I didn’t
what was down is also up. You were always
What should I call you? Yew, or oak, or pomegranate
seed—I could tame myself by returning to logic.
Always, always, foxglove, in between. Two
as if
About the Poet
Eric Stiefel is a graduate of the MFA program at Washington University in St. Louis, where he also served as
Want more great poetry? Click the Vita Brevis Randomizer below (maybe you’ll find the hidden page!)