Katrina Vandenberg

Dinner with Ex-Lover, Ten Years Out

So here we are — white tablecloth and a window,
the sweat of our water glasses, the shy twirl  

of Thai noodles against a spoon. His body
has thickened into a stranger’s. I hear, in the heart  

of my old hometown, Detroit, some buildings
and blocks have been abandoned so long, wildness  

is coming back to the city. I hear men
have begun to stalk pheasants again in the vines.

Pollen Hunt
(Terry Wright)