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A graduate of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, Margaret Reges’s honors include fellowships from the Fine Arts Work Center in Provincetown, the MacDowell Colony and the Vermont Studio Center. Her poems have appeared in Boston Review, The Iowa Review, jubilat, Michigan Quarterly Review, New Orleans Review and elsewhere. She teaches creative writing courses for Stanford Pre-Collegiate Studies and online poetry courses for high school students via the Iowa Young Writers’ Studio. Starting in Fall 2019, she will teach at Castilleja School in Palo Alto. For more information, visit https://www.margaretreges.com/
The poem and manuscript below were included in the printed program of the 2015 Discovery Winners’ Reading.
Afterimages moving across the eyes in the pitted dark in the pitted black air and the heavy soft scent of rain on wood planks, the heavy scent of grass, the tips of the fingers slick and white with cold.
If your brother had come in after the light went would you have heard it, running in the rain or maybe falling.
The door of the garage plucked and folded like a blanket, the scent of water, oil, bits of twig, the whole yard unfolding.
Maybe the wind striking the head and such heaviness of wet denim on the thighs.
But for the sound of the wind wrenching siding, a flapping peel thrown through the air so gently at first, such shapes of rain like patterns of dream static and then a fogged lens of branches in lightning, split apart.
