Catch
by Jennifer Elise Foerster
From the dark wave
glints
the first star’s fin
Long cast,
your silver line
threads the river’s
mouth shut
Two hawks lash
in the wind’s net –
listen to the distance
they weave in the air
between them
Your reflection
pulls against the current. Fast
flash of clouds,
aluminum fish
Hawk-clawed, your catch
slips,
drowned in the reeds –
You swim
wide-eyed, suspended
One hawk’s cry fades –
dusk. Then rain
In the waning light
reel in your line,
walk into the pines at the outer bank
Jennifer Elise Foerster’s first book of poems, Leaving Tulsa, was published by the University of Arizona Press in 2013, and was a Shortlist Finalist for the 2014 PEN Open Book Award. Jennifer’s work has appeared in numerous journals and anthologies, including New California Writing 2011 and Sing: Poetry from the Indigenous Americas. An alumna of the Institute of American Indian Arts and the Vermont College of the Fine Arts, Jennifer has received a Lannan Foundation Writing Residency Fellowship, and was a Wallace Stegner Fellow in Poetry at Stanford University from 2008-2010. Of German, Dutch, and Muscogee descent, Jennifer is a member of the Muscogee (Creek) Nation of Oklahoma. Jennifer lives in San Francisco, and is also pursuing her PhD in English and Creative Writing at the University of Denver.
Photo Credit: Richard Bluecloud Castaneda
