Clade Song 6
Clade Song 6 Left

Clade Song 6

Nothing, Nothing

The fox has been here
and the deer, their damp scat
glistens in the first light
of the August day, already
warm, already dying,
but not before the thrasher
sings, not before the bee
finds the flower. Nowhere
else but here would the sky
open like this, the clouds
blooming this way and that
under invisible stars. Like webs
they catch the breeze, bending
like buzzards do in searching
the ground for signs, for what
has gone away. The traces
in the sand tell a story of
miraculous escape. No witness
to prove it, but it’s there
all the same. The absence
of things is a lie. There is
a small breath in every shadow
and a voice in the darkest cave.
I step lightly in this laden land
and say nothing, nothing
over and over again.




Clade Song 6 Right
Ryan Bayless Ryan Bayless lives in Austin, Texas and teaches English and Fine Arts at Texas A&M University-Central Texas. His work has appeared in The Wayfarer, Canary, The Aurorean, Right Hand Pointing, Alba, Tipton Poetry Journal, Wilderness House Literary Review, and elsewhere.