e chose the darkest part for us
between the campsite and communal fire.
Said this was just the place to teach us

night vision, which he’d perfected
as a Reservist in the jungles
of Florida, a simulated drop

behind enemy lines in ’Nam,
where survival depended on following
the footfalls of shy, nocturnal beasts.

Or picking out the metal catch
of a mine in the shuddering moonlight—
which, in these New England woods,

he translated into spreading roots
—splayed—tendons of hands—
across the paths. The sniper’s mark

was a spinner’s web at temple level.
Our task was to set our sight
on the sightless part,

then wait for the pupils’ dilation,
trusting the way to reveal itself
out of the barked periphery.

For some time, we stumbled—
horses riding into blinders.
The path we pretended to see

was only his voice, which we followed
through red oaks, scuffing
our boots on swaybacked stones.

When it happened, it was exactly
like looking through a stereogram,
the snow-white static of this

perceived world falling away,
the trails of badger and deer,
litter-drag of porcupines, the retreat

made implicit to the un-learned eye.
Years later, I’m at the sudden funeral
of his wife. He wears his grief

like a new shirt, self-consciously,
and I suppose there isn’t any other way.
I’m one of the scrupulous mourners

who wait for him to cross the mortuary lot.
That is when I notice
his slant-faced approach.

He is not-looking for the way,
trying night vision in broad day. I watch
him watch the static fall away.


Feature image by Julius Hofmann. Courtesy of the artist

Click on the image to enlarge.

Benjamin Landry

Benjamin Landry is the author of Particle and Wave. He has been the recipient of a Mina Shaughnessy Scholarship in Writing from the Bread Loaf School of English and a Meijer Post-MFA Fellowship from the University of Michigan. His poems have appeared in American Letters & Commentary, Denver Quarterly, The Kenyon Review Online, Subtropics, and elsewhere. His reviews and essays have appeared in The Los Angeles Review of Books, Boston Review, The Rumpus, and elsewhere.