Jonathan by Jeffrey McDaniel

View this email on a browser Forward to a friend September 10, 2014   Jonathan   Jeffrey McDaniel

We are underwater off the coast of Belize. The water is lit up even though it’s dark as if there are illuminated seashells scattered on the ocean floor. We’re not wearing oxygen tanks, yet staying underwater for long stretches. We are looking for the body of the boy we lost. Each year he grows a little older. Last December you opened his knapsack and stuck in a plastic box of carrots. Even though we’re underwater, we hear a song playing over a policeman’s radio. He comes to the shoreline to park and eat midnight sandwiches, his headlights fanning out across the harbor. And I hold you close, apple of my closed eye, red dance of my opened fist.            Copyright © 2014 by Jeffrey McDaniel. Used with permission of the author. About This Poem   “The poem is about those loved ones who are so vividly alive in our hearts. Yet inexplicably out of reach.” —Jeffrey McDaniel   Jeffrey McDaniel is the author of Chapel of Inadvertent Joy (University of Pittsburgh Press, 2013). He teaches at Sarah Lawrence College and lives in the Hudson Valley. Most Recent Book by McDaniel   Chapel of Inadvertent Joy (University of Pittsburgh Press, 2013) "My Bright Aluminum Tumblers" by Michael Ryan "Last" by Maxine Scates "Jet" by Tony Hoagland Poem-a-Day   Launched during National Poetry Month in 2006, Poem-a-Day features new and previously unpublished poems by contemporary poets on weekdays and classic poems on weekends. Thanks for being a part of the Academy of American Poets community. To learn about other programs, including National Poetry Month, Poem in Your Pocket Day, the annual Poets Forum, and more, visit Poets.org.   You are receiving this e-mail because you elected to subscribe to our mailing list. If you would like to unsubscribe, please click here.   © Academy of American Poets 75 Maiden Lane, Suite 901, New York, NY 10038