In order to view this poem with the line breaks the author intended, we suggest reading it on a computer screen or in landscape orientation on your phone or tablet.

May, After an Argument

Branches ease new leaves above
the trilliums, with tentative arms.
Always first are the woods’ white flowers.
Ferns unfurl for a while in the rain.

Ferns unfurl for a while in the rain.
I used to walk with him in lupine leaf,
the trilliums, with tentative arms.
Home, he’s silent. He pets the dog.

Home, he’s silent. He pets the dog.
He reads his book about sailing.
I want to walk with him in lupine leaf.
I dress whitefish with rosemary.

I dress whitefish with rosemary.
I wipe our counter of applewood.
He reads his book about sailing.
The fog never seems to burn off.

The fog never seems to burn off.
It’s clear it might stay this summer.
I wipe our counter of applewood.
I sizzle the fish in the iron pan.

I sizzle the fish in the iron pan.
His empty face of anger — it’s clear
it might stay this summer. All around us,
the orchards are in blossom, without fail.

—
Nancy Takacs is the author of eight collections of poetry, the latest of which is Dearest Water (Mayapple Press, 2022). She is a recipient of The Juniper Prize, a finalist for the National Poetry Series, two 15 Bytes magazine full-length poetry awards, and other awards. She has twice been a resident fellow at Ucross. Recent publications: About Place, Kestrel, Baltimore Review, and On the Seawall. Nancy is the inaugural poet laureate of Helper — Utah’s Art Hub — and the founder and director of the Steamboat Mountain Poetry Reading Series in Helper.

Know anyone who might appreciate reading Nancy’s poem?
Why not share the link to this page?

Click here to return to the Table of Contents.