Caught at last in this brown caution,
this wake of sound beyond the known
alphabet, where is our refuge?
Frame of forgetting.
Frame of remembering.
Floor of a faith forever gone.
Steps we’ve taken, those footprints
are in us forever. Listen.
All those words we never will say, echoing.
This poem was first published in Ingrid Wendt's book, Evensong (Truman State University Press, 2011)
Ingrid Wendt’s first book, Moving the House, was selected by William Stafford for the New Poets of American Series, published by BOA Editions (1980). Her next three books received the Oregon Book Award (1987), the Yellowglen Award and the Editions prize from WordTech Editions (2003 and 2004). She is co-editor of the anthology In Her Own Image: Women Working in the Arts (1980) and the Oregon poetry anthology From Here We Speak (1993). Her most recent book, Evensong, is available from Truman State University Press (2011). She has taught poetry writing for over thirty years, at all educational levels, most recently as a Fulbright Senior Specialist at the University of Freiburg, Germany. She lives in Eugene, Oregon. www.ingridwendt.com
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