Stephen Knauth

The rain, its consonants

and vowels, asking us

to turn the volume down

and move toward the window.

A gentle call to order,

telling us there’s a secret

we’ve not been told.

We listen, as if to learn it,

as if thin panes of the heart depend on it.

The rain’s voice

watering the thirsty grain of memory,

softening the impassable blue hills ahead

where our spirits may find

their places, pale stones

in the creek bed, gleaming.

Stephen Knauth was born in Milwaukee, grew up in Buffalo and Pittsburgh, and currently lives with his family in North Carolina. His latest collections of poetry are The River I Know You By and Twenty Shadows, both from Four Way Books. His poems have appeared in North American Review, Virginia Quarterly Review, Water~Stone Review, Drunken Boat, and Poetry Daily, among others. He has held fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts and the North Carolina Arts Council.

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