The Pedestal Magazine > Archives > Issue 50 > Poetry >R. Sanford - Lusk at the Lake

Lusk at the Lake

For his fifth birthday Lusk was
given a birthday cake, but no candles—
no candles, his father said,
a hand on his mother's shoulder,
no force, but managing to hold her—
no candles. Have you seen
what hope does to a man?

Lusk did not understand.

He had not yet seen Lake Superior,
grey water, not blue at all,
a magnanimous periphery
of shells that held no oceans,

his father at the center of the
long rope bridge, eyes wide,
and Lusk sitting at the far
end saying

will you come if I meet
you out there, and hold
your hand?

The waves coming and coming,
stealing his answer.









R. Sanford recently finished his undergraduate work at Indiana University and will be entering the University of Notre Dame's MFA program this fall. His work has previously appeared in Merge Poetry. He's still young enough to be in love with the starving artist lifestyle, but hopes someday to be not-so-starving.

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