Susan Rich

That Lost Thing

I think of your wind chime brain
the low hanging indifferent sky
a frame for loneliness just beginning—
what unwinds or subdues our ghosts,
now, three decades on? Our unpredicted 
decline tumbles down hallways cold 

with grief. See the ice leaves, the cloud
house leaving us white lies, almosts
we dealt with in red confetti rage.
There’s a staircase theory of longing
spindle, balustrade, curve
of the earth all accumulating
in a young man and young woman
unclasped from their unborn child
from their former almost lives.


Susan Rich is the author of four poetry collections including Cloud Pharmacy, The Alchemist’s Kitchen, Cures Include Travel, and The Cartographer’s Tongue: Poems of the World (White Pine). Along with Brian Turner she is a co-editor of The Strangest of Theatres: Poets Crossing Borders and she has received awards from The Times Literary Supplement (London), Peace Corps Writers, PEN USA and the Fulbright Foundation. Rich’s poems have appeared in the Antioch Review, New England Review, Plume, and World Literature Today. Her poetry and prose have been translated into Slovenian and Swedish.