With a broken-down oven, in a hotel kitchen, on an uninhabited island
Subscribe and Save up to 45%
Robert Hill Long is a poet who lives in Eugene, Oregon. The poem about his father in this issue appears in his new book The Work of the Bow (Cleveland State University). His father died last August.
Such sights should radiate to and from the seer like spokes from the hub of a wheel, a mutual dependence that makes experience move in an ordered way. To put it in emotive terms: as I am moved, I want to be moving.