by Rachel Morgan

We are a people impatient
to see our world
redeemed through catastrophe

and we are always wrong.

Encamped by this watch fire,
that information.

Last night there was no
wind-loading against the house.

This morning it rained only
two minutes while the sun shone.

We drank from this false cup-and-saucer.

An indicator species roared
beyond the ten car pileup

and everyone walked away.

Rachel Morgan is currently the Poetry Editor for the North American Review and teaches creative writing at the University of Northern Iowa. She’s a graduate of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. She co-edited Fire Under the Moon: An Anthology of Contemporary Slovene Poetry (Black Dirt Press). Recently her work appears or is forthcoming in Crazyhorse, Mid-American Review, Fence, Denver Quarterly, B O D Y, Barrow Street, and DIAGRAM. Visit her website.