Story Problem
By Cole Swensen
Given: The trees along a river seem constantly in motion; perhaps it’s the rhythm inherent in their equidistant planting, inciting a sense of walking, or perhaps it’s the movement of the river itself, a visio-kinetic echo connected to the viewer. Or is it the triangulation—river, line-of-trees, viewer—in their complex differentials, as, for instance, in a train station when the train on the next track over starts to move and, for a second or two, you’re not sure which, you or it, is actually moving off—and thus, if I stopped walking, would the trees then start? And what would become of the river, now derailed?
Source: Poetry (May 2024)