May 2009

B.J. Buckley


B.J. Buckley has worked in Arts-in-Schools programs throughout the west for over 30 years. She lives in Montana's Bitterroot Valley in a cabin with no running water or electricity. Her most recent book, with co-author Dawn Senior-Trask, is Moon Horses and the Red Bull (ProngHorn Press, 2005).


Description is revelation.
          —Wallace Stevens

There's such fragility to what we know—
for most of it, we're only guessing:
About the advent of rain, last love, first robin,
the fate of the soul—a Fall in opposite?
Like a great heron as she rises from the river,
that slow deliberate lifting
of her body's weight
into the air, not held back
but holding
the corporal freight of beak and wing
and hollowed bone in balance,
intent on the wind,
a sure ascent,
clearing the pines: her plumage ash
and thunder blue and luminous
in the lightning's flash,
in the sweet cold rain.



B.J. Buckley: Poetry
Copyright ©2009 The Cortland Review Issue 43The Cortland Review