• 

Analecta 2014 

Poetry 
Cody Miller 

Souls Drifting from a Parking Garage Staircase 

1. 
It surrenders to the sway 
Of the water on the bottom of 
The Sable River and relaxes 
In the gentle passing of sandy granules 
Against its sides and whitened 
Belly now empty of its purpose. I 

Blink, but it's still there. The other fish 
Avoid it like its polluting 
The freshness of their space, like it stinks 
Already even though it's not dead. The others 
Scatter as a boy throws a rock or because 
They smell fresh eggs sinking 
Away from a female. It 
Doesn't matter why, just that they glide away 
And leave the salmon alone 
To rest and gently chew nothing. 

The salmons tried to see, I know it has, 
Over the dam so many times, 
Avoided hooks and colors of yarn, 
Only to drift backwards with the falling 
Leaves to settle in a small depression 
Of pebbles in late October. 

Longing to choke on the colors 
Of leaves that seep 
Through the surface and to let go 
Is hard for anyone, so I think of 
That prized moment when an old man 
Removes his oxygen tubes with purpose 

7 



' 

Analecta 2014 

To stand until he must be lowered 

Back into bed. 

I think the moment sad 
Until I look around at the fishermen 

Snapping their lines like silky webs 
In a storm. None of them care 

That a beaten salmon is dying 
Only feet from the bank. Instead, they 

busy themselves with life, with food, 

with joy, and not death. 

2. 
They don't think about dark 

Birds scattering from above 

An empty staircase-it reminds me of the city­
And how they look like ashes 

Without fire. There's no rain, 

Only a river, and heaven 

Still burns like how everything 

Must fall because almost all is 

Human and animal and still existing 

In those final moments. I say if birds turn to mist 

Against the evening sun, we must let it happen 
And not miss the moments when 

A salmon whispers in its own voice, 

"I don't want to go," finally 

Leans up into the current, 

And is gone towards something 

Similar to life. 

8 

There's a bod) 

pond. Long lei 
the cool mud I 
a sophomore e 
was all she ha4 

the last seconc 

of drowning­

moonlight 

hymns.