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“Erratics” by Michael Lauchlan

22 September 2017 on Poetry   Tags: ,

They’re erratics, a friend tells me,
left by glaciers. I say they were left
by a crew that dug up the sewers,

but he’s unfazed. Before that,
he says, way before. They’re granite,
but so muddy that I took them

for concrete and tried to break one.
My sledge bounced but cracked it--

exposed the dense immanent light.
We drag them into my garden

and I start on my next project
all the while repeating the word.
In a lumber yard parking lot

a guy collecting bottles touches me
for a buck. A bent cashier measures
my planks, slides hardware

over the scanner, and peers at me
through thick glasses. I make

my slow way through the lit night,
balancing my cart’s uneven load.

----

Michael Lauchlan’s poems have landed in many publications including New England Review, Virginia Quarterly Review, The North American Review, Harpur Palate, Sugar House Review, Canary, Southword, and Poetry Ireland. His most recent collection is Trumbull Ave., from WSU Press.

Brian Krista is an award-winning photojournalist with the Baltimore Sun Media Group, serving the communities of Central Maryland since 1998. More of his personal work from home life and daily travels can be found on Instagram: @austensdad. This picture is from a trip to the White Mountains of New Hampshire in July of 2017.

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