print previewback CHRISTOPHER EMERY
A Letter to the Sacred Ibis
for Norman Dubie
We have been in the yard all morning,
the balsams unable to keep our attention
as the greater excitement of breathing ends.
Inside the house a tall mirror leans against
the railing of the staircase. You’ve left
all of your papers on the sofa
for a lack of better conclusions.
An outdoor lodge was built yesterday
and children did their impressions of the afterlife
in wet cement.
One child’s foot rests in an infinite staircase.
It is heavy from rain & unlikeness—he chuckles,
sees his house and cliffs as
hounds trail the specks of other animals,
he returns
to chase things that have been
lost. The neighbor’s car is filled with groceries
and an empty green flask. 
A Letter to the Sacred Ibis