March 2017

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By Angela Gardner

after Paul Celan


A swelling or blockage, theĀ stopped trumpet

sounding imperfectly, broken with gold.

What of the voices in our ears? Listen.

The anvil, the hammer, and the stirrup wait

to be filled by each note as it lays itself down

inside us. And through the cracks

:something molten, antiphonal, enters.

The cooled and planished surface a shape

and sound to ring from the bell foundry.