when it gets to be fall, a boy’s questions
lead him through an ice rink, he rides his bike
back into the picture, into the green lanes
spreading through his shoulders over the road
changing his shirt steadies his Monday  
it’s on his bike, after the class you both have
he admits that he mimics a heron’s face  
so heathery with blue thoughts and long feet
it’s his means to be there, a boy’s questions
anchor his shoes, trying, tying them on
bend him against the locus of echoes  
every word of you sounding in the frame  
how did you soak so into saying’s edges
voices come to points in a boy’s long gaze 


Davy Knittle is the author of the chapbooks empathy for cars / force of july (horse less press 2016) and cyclorama (The Operating System 2015). His poems and reviews have appeared recently or are forthcoming in Fence, The Brooklyn Rail, Jacket2 and The Iowa Review. He lives in Philadelphia, where he curates the City Planning Poetics series at the Kelly Writers House.