Friday 5 May 2023

1 Poem by Seth Copeland

South Padre ’98

I remember a family vacation in Texas,
eight years old in a hotel pool after dark,
looking up at the light in the clouds
reflected dull & smokey like old lamps.
My feet were pruned and raw
on the pool’s rough bottom,
craning to take in industrial sky over
the chlorine glow and walkway
lights, an old god scowling
over our Christmas in summer.
These moments do not make it
into photo albums.


Seth Copeland currently teaches, tutors, studies, and writes in Milwaukee. His work has appeared in Drunk Monkeys, Kestrel, Dream Pop, Afternoon Visitor, and Yes Poetry, among others. He is the current poetry co-editor for Cream City Review and the founding editor of the text/image archive petrichor.

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