Three Poems

by Kassandra Montag

A dark house at the end of the road  and my hand empty.  A cricket itches his way through a song  invisible in the field beside me.    I stand in the middle of the road  trying to remember.  Just moving was a comfort  but now that I am here I feel guilty,  wanting to apologize  for standing in the middle of a gravel road  staring at walls silent as you have become.    The wheat of the field  rolls like it is turning over.  I have a picture in my mind  of walking into the field and just leaving  my body out on the road,  as if I could just walk out of myself  and be lost. The world would rustle  around me and I could pretend  I was part of its energy,  as though it needed me  to keep changing the expressions  of its face.

One white teacup rests  between us on a wooden table saved  from a ship that sank  right outside of the harbor    where we now live.  The light is yellow in the room,  making the stools, the walls,  and your face gentle.    On the walls there are sepia toned  Photographs from the eighteenth century  of men in their towns  and occasionally, a map of an imaginary place.    You reach across the table  And take my hand    But I still cannot breathe.  How you are on the surface  and I am underneath is unknown to me.    I curl my fingers into your palm  and wonder if this touch  is all that was salvaged.

Much time crossed over them  in this little space while they sent  their dreams out over fields    through slits in these rock walls.  Even in their youth  they felt history rolling over them––    like a tide in their beloved sea,  creeping up into the rocks  and blackened face of shore––    it eased its way  into their young limbs  and tight minds. Coming up    out of the bright land  and the earnest stones of their room,  it marked them like dots    on a timeline––  giving them an identity in the stream  that passed right through them.


Kassandra Montag holds a master’s degree in English Literature and her award-winning poetry and short fiction has appeared in journals and anthologies, including Midwestern Gothic, Nebraska Poetry, Prairie Schooner, and Mystery Weekly Magazine. After the Flood is her first novel. More of her work can be found at