From the Archives: “An Ode to Ellipses” by Chen Kasher

You were your own deep exterior; a shallop
That took one rower;
A sink whose slush sounded like a rill;
Ballast so cubed in blue-black water
Sometimes you sensed your own depth.
You were the sleepy steamed broccoli; the travel
Serendipity; the room whose light
Stayed up past 3 A.M.;
The goldfish that prayed for rain.
You were the island pew filled with
So many trogons and water,
The tropical growth had to vacate its space;
You were the last to shut your door and let self keep
Fuchsia – catnip – winter jeans: