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Kevin McLellan

Elegy for Jack

My incubation took years
as did your sun

and those of our ancestors
and in their honor

words need to be precise
so when I asked where?

you calmly said the certain way
to your own uncertain direction  

Jack Myers 1941-2009


My nephew gave me
a purple clover.

I pick him up
and look through

his thick lenses
and into his eyes.

Uncle Kevin, I’m blind
in my left eye

but I can see you
out of my right eye.

I say nothing
as I remember

that he may lose
his sight completely.

Uncle Kevin
are you okay?

On being well

The wooden bucket:


the rotting rope: bitter


water: a secret in


the well: the well


your lungs: your breath


labored: last words


not spoken: the flooding

Kevin McLellan is the author of the chapbook Round Trip (Seven Kitchens, 2010), a collaborative series of poems with numerous women poets. He has recent or forthcoming poems in journals including: Barrow Street, Colorado Review, failbetter, Horse Less Review, Kenyon Review Online, Versal, Western Humanities Review, Witness and numerous others. Kevin lives in Cambridge MA with Frankie (a canary), and sometimes teaches poetry workshops at the University of Rhode Island in Providence.