The first time

a glimpse—

            blur of wild

      notions—

trumpet

            and thunder

      blocked

by the astonishing

            flank,

      the trembling

ground, a frenzied

            hunger.

      Over and over

we yearn

            to peer

      at its grace

and power,

            at more

      than the animal

weight, the flimsy

            shadows.

      It takes years                                

to learn

            the whole                                 

      unlikely shape

can never be

            in focus.

Christine Rhein is the author of Wild Flight (Texas Tech University Press). Her poems have appeared in journals including Michigan Quarterly Review, The
Southern Review, and Rattle, and in anthologies including Best New Poets and The Best American Nonrequired Reading. A lifelong Michigander, she is active in
the Detroit and Ann Arbor poetry communities. (www.ChristineRhein.com)