Poetry
Stopping for Directions
Tony Tost
Late afternoon.
The soldier wakes up
On the side of the road.
His feet are inches from the blacktop.
His coat is still damp
From a night of long rain.
His hands are warm in the pockets.
The soldier knows he's in Washington.
Look at the clouds.
He's somewhere near the ocean.
(directions for the reader)
remember a table in a meadow
hand-carved legs
chipped, turning yellow
think of Ahab's
remember the beer can rings
the three initials carved out
think about the leaves
growing from the table
from the cigarette burns
don't forget:
there are robins
fat and anxious
singing behind
the table's blossoms
The soldier's knees shake a little.
He stands and wipes gravel
From his beard.
In front of him is a road
Curving to the left,
Behind him is the forest.
(questions for the reader)
from which has he
narrowly escaped?
to which is he escaping?
what are we to make of the fox
trotting towards him?
what about the fork
clenched between its small teeth?