Taken from a Walt Whitman Misquote

Loving Backwards


Raindrops like the keys fall upwards from grass

Time drags back to the pattering of song

You reappear at our old piano

Backwards melodies played on your body


Atoms draw me back out into cold night

Dragging my body up broken flight –

Falling upwards, I am without heartbeat,

The fractured grace of willow bones reset


Red paint retract from the shady grass

The boat is floating back to the morning

All my memories are going backwards.


Comets recollect themselves above clouds

Thunder returns to roost in electric nests,


We were together, I forget the rest.


Published by Ben Berman Ghan

Hi! My name is Ben Berman Ghan. I’m Jewish Settler, writer, editor, and academic based in Tkaronto/Toronto, site of Treaty 13 and Williams Treaty territory, currently working on my MA at Ryerson University's Literatures of Modernity program. I am the author of many short stories, a few essays, and the fix-up novel What We See in the Smoke (Crowsnest Books 2019)

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