Velocity
Lauren Camp
How far we forth to saltwater or the passion
of concluding winter.
All eyes out for a threshold
south and west. We see the earth
work its seam and caul. We see no other mysteries
but peaks. There is still an interior light.
Peer through the vaporous window.
Half a moon stirs.
If we face where we want to go,
it seems we could nearly touch
under, above: tomorrow’s pink start
or the wet fielding weave.
The promise of all that.
I wanted it.
I wanted to be delivered to everything I had lost.
I was born beside an arch,
myself the daughter of a paradise.
Lauren Camp serves as New Mexico Poet Laureate. She is the author of eight books of poetry, most recently In Old Sky (Grand Canyon Conservancy, 2024). A former Astronomer-in-Residence at Grand Canyon National Park, Camp is a recipient of the Dorset Prize, finalist commendations for the Arab American Book Award and Adrienne Rich Award, and fellowships from the Academy of American Poets and Black Earth Institute. Her poems have been translated into Mandarin, Turkish, Spanish, French, and Arabic. www.laurencamp.com