The past is a hollow wind
that looks like evening prayers

it carries the blush of summer
to a grave in the sun

it tells geese when to rise against
the mountain’s gaze

and shadows learn
to climb their trees

if you’re lucky some strange thing
will lose its way and stay behind.

---

Terry Mulert is a poet living in the middle Rio Grande Valley near the Manzano Mountains in Belén, New Mexico. His book-length manuscript was a top three finalist for the Four Way Books Levis Prize in Poetry and a top five finalist for the Codhill Poetry Award. He was a finalist for the Bright Hill Press Chapbook award. He has published in the anthology Eating the Pure Light: Homage to Thomas McGrath, and the journals San Pedro River Review, California Quarterly, The Madison Review, Puerto del Sol, The Mid-America Poetry Review, Plainsongs (Award Poem), Texas Poetry Review: Borderlands, The Baltimore Review, The Hawai’i Review, Big Scream, The Chiron Review, and others.