I’ll be brief, for we are both busy
and the calendar Gods have laid waste to
that idyllic peace which, if we’re honest,
is as foreign to our forebears as to us.

Yet there are moments in our backbreaking
lives on this backbreaking Earth that, were
we to behold them to their utmost, would
call into question this whole endeavor:

Not just the raking of leaves, not just work
or self-improvement, but poetry, even love.
Rushing through the dark, a wolf snarls my
name and I don’t flinch—I just stand in awe.

Selected byNolcha Fox
Image credit:Milo Weiler

Andy Posner grew up in Los Angeles and earned an MA in Environmental Studies at Brown. While there, he founded Capital Good Fund, a nonprofit that provides financial services to low-income families. When not working, he enjoys reading, writing, watching documentaries, and ranting about the state of the world. He has had his poetry published in several journals, including Burningword Literary Journal (which nominated his poem ‘The Machinery of the State’ for the Pushcart Poetry Prize), Noble/Gas Quarterly, and The Esthetic Apostle.