RICKENBACKER

The stream erased the canyon
and someone erased the stream.
The headlands groan in the sun
because someone erased the ocean below.
Who wrecked the stream and lowered
the ocean? The eyes of geology are long
and no one sees the process
fools call progress. If you must,
measure the smoothness of the hills
as continents rise and sheer off
into the sea or the smoothness
of the grey-haired listeners
to the Byrds who bleed
notes in the present like stone.

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Lawrence Bridges' poetry has appeared in The New Yorker, Poetry, and The Tampa Review. He has published three volumes of poetry: Horses on Drums (Red Hen Press, 2006), Flip Days (Red Hen Press, 2009), and Brownwood (Tupelo Press, 2016). You can find him on IG: @larrybridges