"I Knew"

that night we lay on air
sultry as an Egyptian's exhale.

Nothing stirred but firefly wings
and our gentle fingers, figuring

at the throb and pulse that electrified
such small bodies with sparks.

Their glimmer laced the lake's edge
like a necklace, like lookout smoke,

and we drifted tranquil within, at peace
with each other, our unwearied lips.

The water was blue-black beneath us,
a veiled mirror underneath the cloak

of sky, light discovering light
only when we moved.

-- by Emily Brisse,
originally published in The Talking Stick,
Vol. 20, Editor's Choice award


  1. A very beautiful, moving, and powerful poem. Your poetry is nothing less than elegant.

  2. Rich and evocative, and as much as the words compel there is a rhythm equally entrancing - "figuring at the throb and pulse..." Thanks for this moment transformed, Emily.

  3. Thanks for the kind comments, gentlemen. This poem is a particular favorite of mine.

  4. Congratulations on receiving the Editor's Choice award, Emily. Lovely, lovely poem.

  5. Thanks, Audrey. I noticed you in there, too, so congrats, as well!

    1. Somehow I missed this the first time around. So beautiful, Emily. I selfishly hope you're quietly and diligently at work on a collection of poems so I can read them to myself and to my husband and to my children.

    2. Quietly, not too diligently, but I do take kind comments like this to heart. Thanks, Robin.


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