When the wind blows hard here
angels take cover.
Maybe that's how you came to me,
in these former barracks walls
where I trace knots
and gnarls and write my poems.
Tonight, the moon
strikes the ocean until it gleams
like a shield.
The sergeants and corporals are
gone, but artists
take their place as sentries among
this broken rock.
I wasn't built for war, or to
I'm strictly a dreamer of clouds
but science has let me down, unable
to predict orbits.
Tonight winter overtakes the
willows and washes away
their gowns, our syllables. I don't
the slingshot force of the
Universe. Written into
the sky, we circle
—but never really
—you and I.
Currently enrolled in the MA in Humanities
Program at Dominican University of California, Dave Seter earned his
undergraduate degree in Civil Engineering from Princeton University. His poetry has recently appeared in
Appalachia, Tulane Review, Spillway, Raven Chronicles, and various other
publications. He is the recipient of two
Pushcart Prize nominations. Born in
Chicago, he has lived on both coasts, and currently resides in Sonoma County,
California. His first collection, the chapbook
Night Duty, was published in 2010 by Main Street Rag Publishing Company.