Issue 11, 1986
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—
“At the End of the Untraveled Road” by Franz Wright
Under Konocti
the long eucalyptus lined
road in the moon,
wind of November,
the now hawkless
hills
turning green—
it was always here, not yet remembered.
Whatever it is
I was seeking, with my useless despair:
it was always here.
And I’m on my way now,
the pages too heavy to turn,
the first morning lights coming on
over the lake. How happy I am!
There’s no hope for me.
