Beyond the house, beyond the fence I builtlast summer, down the slope I cleared with sawsand brushhooks, past the sycamore too largefor any blade I have, with its hung vines, beyond the trilliums, immaculatewith white each April, vanishing by June

Lantry, W.F.

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BoothVolume 3 | Issue 10 Article 410-28-2011SovereigntyW.F. LantryFollow this and additional works at: http://digitalcommons.butler.edu/boothThis Article is brought to you for free and open access by Digital Commons @ Butler University. It has been accepted for inclusion in Booth by anauthorized administrator of Digital Commons @ Butler University. For more information, please contact fgaede@butler.edu.Recommended CitationLantry, W.F. (2011) "Sovereignty," Booth: Vol. 3: Iss. 10, Article 4.Available at: http://digitalcommons.butler.edu/booth/vol3/iss10/4SovereigntyAbstractBeyond the house, beyond the fence I builtlast summer, down the slope I cleared with sawsand brushhooks, past the sycamore too largefor any blade I have, with its hung vines, beyond the trilliums, immaculatewith white each April, vanishing by June,Keywordspoetry, foliage, freedom, ruleThis article is available in Booth: http://digitalcommons.butler.edu/booth/vol3/iss10/4Booth Journalhttp://booth.butler.edu/[10/30/2011 1:43:00 PM]ABOUT ARCHIVES CONTESTS PRINT SUBMITOctober 28, 2011Sovereigntyby W.F. Lantry“Experience, though noon auctoritee… ”~ ChaucerBeyond the house, beyond the fence I builtlast summer, down the slope I cleared with sawsand brushhooks, past the sycamore too largefor any blade I have, with its hung vines,beyond the trilliums, immaculatewith white each April, vanishing by June,I cleared the loose dimensions of a glade,cut saplings down, untangled every vine,rank poison ivy, devil’s thorn, red grape,tore out coarse undergrowth, and carried limbsstorm fallen, to the bramble edge, then mowedour meadow grasses almost to a lawn.I’d hoped to make a ground for summering,1Lantry: SovereigntyPublished by Digital Commons @ Butler University, 2011Booth Journalhttp://booth.butler.edu/[10/30/2011 1:43:00 PM]Butler MFA Contact Us Facebook© Booth Journal.  Powered by WordPress and Manifest« Olderfor play and evening song, perhaps a spotwhere she could mark up scores in quietudeuntroubled by the chaos of the house,but lifting up the last decaying wooddisturbed a swarm of hornets. Poisoned barbswinged everywhere. I felt them through my shirtand stripped it as I ran. My other clotheslittered a path towards the riverbankwhere finally I paused, my skin in flames.Doused in the stream, I called out, then returnedto gather what was left, and limped inside.W.F. Lantry holds a PhD from the University of Houston. In 2010 he wonthe Lindberg Foundation International Poetry for Peace Prize, CruciblePoetry Prize, CutBank Patricia Goedicke Prize, and the National HackneyLiterary Award in Poetry. His work has appeared in The Wallace StevensJournal, Prairie Fire, Kestrel, Asian Cha, Poetry Salzburg, Gulf Coast andAesthetica. He currently works in Washington, DC and is a contributingeditor of Umbrella. His website is http://wflantry.com/ELSEWHERE2Booth, Vol. 3 [2011], Iss. 10, Art. 4http://digitalcommons.butler.edu/booth/vol3/iss10/4

Sovereignty

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Sovereignty

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