It continued to haunt, in its electro-stripes and


late your saying intervened, adding blue


to the triangle like a screen. This


system which couldn’t echo and failed to


orient the true barrier. A long thin line


from their penultimate year


or the pavilion they’re casting around.

Copyright © 2015 by Hannah Brooks-Motl. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on August 12, 2015, by the Academy of American Poets.