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Rhymes for a Watertower

By Christian WimanPosted Tuesday, June 11, 2002, at 4:05 PM ET

Listen to Christian Wiman reading this poem.

A town so flat a grave's a hill,
A dusk the color of beer.
A row of schooldesks shadows fill,
A row of houses near.

A courthouse spreading to its lawn,
A bank clock's lingering heat.
A gleam of storefronts not quite gone,
A courthouse in the street.

A different element, almost,
A dry creek brimming black.
A light to lure the darkness close,
A light to keep it back.

A time so still a heart's a sound,
A moon the color of skin.
A pumpjack bowing to the ground,
Again, again, again.

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Christian Wiman's most recent book is Ambition and Survival: Becoming a Poet.

Click here to visit Robert Pinsky's Favorite Poem Project site.To submit poetry to Slate, send up to five poems and a self-addressed, stamped envelope to: Robert Pinsky, Slate Magazine, Boston University, 236 Bay State Road, Boston, MA, 02215.

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