Dan Lukiv

White Fog: A Dog-Day Collection of Poems Dan Lukiv

An excerpt // The Circle // He fogs up the cool glass / With warm breath, / And then wipes a circle. // He peers out- / A submarine commander / Looking through a periscope, / Looking for something / To shoot. // But the power is fleeting, / Like a guffaw, / Or a sigh. // He would cry, / But the muscles in his neck / Are too taut, / Too painful, / And the lump in his throat / Is too hard. // He exhales again, / Harder this time, / And draws a bigger circle / To peer through. // But he will not cry, / Even if it kills him.