Lynxes
The land lynx blessed our aching knees
The water lynx’s every whisker
Twitched a blessing as it swam under rocks
When waves made boot upon its tail
Twitches on lynxes’ full-fathom-five faces
Whisking the threshold of solid war
Dry and wet lynxes arriving to bless us
By the sun-spanked Lake Superior shore
And I hope a lynx’s hexagonal face
Arrives flame-licked under cover of dusk
To bless your knees and scorch your banks
And all domains where you find hurt
And if not lynx by land or lake or aching air
Who is it talking to me here
Daniel Poppick is the author of Fear of Description (Penguin, 2019), a winner of the National Poetry Series, and The Police (Omnidawn, 2017). He lives in Brooklyn, where he works as a copywriter.
