The Hunting Party
Daniel Barnum

you call what you do wandering the earth.
no one has known you as well as the you in the dream has.
driving sunrise: surveilling your many
surfaces and tendencies, holding the spare image of keys
from that sign on the front door of the labyrinth store – the place where
your journey begins – in your mind like a melody.
outside, the landscape of fear is
assembling into brief vistas, other places kept far enough away not
to worry about. your neighbor – whoever that lady in white is –
what did she mention the other night? the unknown
coachman, singing to her while she walked the town peninsula,
following a pilgrim’s map. once, you supposed beauty
was the dream – spirit forming beyond that which is nature’s.
the way back trails its thread behind you, a red fact.

Daniel Barnum's poems and essays appear in Couplet Poetry, The Offing, Muzzle, Evergreen Review, Washington Square Review, Best New Poets, and elsewhere. They live in Philadelphia.