Annie Stenzel

river father never heart

On the cusp of sleep, or sometimes when ill at ease, I summon a river
to mind, but not just any river: the one that belongs to my father.
Little did he know it would be his, because he was not a proud
man, having survived a youth in which hunger and pain
were more ordinary than air. Did he know this place was where the last light
of an August day would touch him? That afternoon, his flawed heart
yielded to the injuries time, love, and sadness wreak. Never
will that stretch of water surrender its hold on my heart.
Witnessed in any season, winter included, the light
will stab, glisten. Haunt, because memory summons history’s pain.
This photo shows a day (though there were more) when he was truly proud
of me, his face radiant under a drift of snowy hair, my long-dead father.
Oh Mercy, oh polished slabs of granite, oh most beloved Merced River.

Annie Stenzel (she/her) is a lesbian poet who was born in Illinois, but did not stay put.
Her second full-length collection, Don’t misplace the moon, was published in 2024 by
Kelsay Books. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in print and online journals
in Canada, the U.S., and the U.K., including Action, Spectacle; Gavialidae; One Art;
Pine Hills Review; Rust + Moth; Sheila-na-Gig; SWWIM; St, Katherine’s Review;
A poetry editor for the online journal West Trestle Review, she lives on unceded Ohlone
land within walking distance of the San Francisco Bay.