And measure the rings
Do not leave out the xylem
Of mingling auras
And the sap that adheres
Our dream-laden musings

Find not the misspoken words
And broken deeds
When our glowing chaff
Sparks the reaper’s moon
Like the fireflies of a bonfire

Whosoever is left to count the grains
Leave the barley of my tears uncounted
And let the canes of maize alone be numbered
For in those elds our thoughts grow
And as to our joys
They are as immeasurable and elusive
As the river’s thin film
Acquiescently swirling…

Joel Pace is Professor of English at the University of Wisconsin, Eau Claire. Prior to teaching in America, he completed his doctorate at the University of Oxford, where he overindulged in tea, poetry, and music. Later this year Culicidae Press will publish his debut collection of poetry, Inside Providence, which also features the artwork of his late father as well as original musical settings of select poems.

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