{"id":15004,"date":"2018-12-01T01:29:04","date_gmt":"2018-12-01T07:29:04","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/?p=15004"},"modified":"2018-12-01T09:44:16","modified_gmt":"2018-12-01T15:44:16","slug":"all-that-matters","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/archives\/15004","title":{"rendered":"All That Matters"},"content":{"rendered":"

After the eclipse, Carbondale, IL August 21, 2017<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

Crescent moons cut\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0<\/span>from the shade between
\n<\/span>the breaks in the leaves,\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0<\/span>decor on the planks
\n<\/span>of the Adirondack chairs\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 <\/span>on the patio floor,
\n<\/span>where cops and surgeons gathered
\n<\/span>in the yard:\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0<\/span>familiar strangers.<\/span><\/p>\n

Dense bands of shadow\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0<\/span>combed the tall grass.
\n<\/span>Closer, unwanted advice<\/span> \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0from a San Jose professor.<\/span><\/p>\n

Before this,\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0<\/span>minor disagreements:
\n<\/span>my father and me, kayaking in silence.
\n<\/span>The more we take photographs\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0<\/span>of sun on the water.
\n<\/span>Everybody has their own way of doing it.<\/span><\/i> That painful quiet.
\n<\/span>Whatever we want. <\/span><\/p>\n

At the house, totality.<\/span><\/p>\n

And me walking away from the crowd<\/span>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0toward the water.
\n<\/span>A rim of sunsets where there normally was none.
\n<\/span>His hand finding my back. A gray-white cloud puff
\n<\/span>above the dark tree line. <\/span>I have to go now.<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

A case of water\u2014another way of
\n<\/span>Come back soon. <\/span><\/i>Over ten hours to think
\n<\/span>how when the next one comes<\/span>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0in seven years:
\n<\/span>What will I regret? What brief worry will sag inside? <\/span><\/p>\n

In a crummy hotel, with his money folded in my pocket,
\n<\/span>the terrible quiet that I\u2019m always chasing\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0<\/span>settles in.<\/span><\/p>\n

Along the night\u2019s detour,\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 <\/span>I draft him a letter
\n<\/span>that I\u2019ll never send. This is the silent work:
\n<\/span>slow-rolling through miles of cornfields,
\n<\/span>somewhere outside Watson or Heartville,\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0<\/span>I click on the radio.
\n<\/span>Brake lights bleed\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0<\/span>beneath the dusky light. The crackling voice
\n<\/span>of a Pastor:\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0<\/span>another evening\u2019s cheerless blessing<\/span><\/i>.<\/span><\/p>\n

In the morning, a fistful of daisies\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0<\/span>tattooed on a girl\u2019s hand.
\n<\/span>The soft spray of semis passing on the interstate\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0<\/span>through Ohio.
\n<\/span>A funnel cloud over a pasture. Clicking on my hazards.
\n<\/span>And I\u2019m supposed to be happy about what?<\/span><\/p>\n

Honeysuckle after the rain. September back east.<\/span><\/p>\n

I suppose I am lucky <\/span>
\n<\/span>the egret\u2019s dry croak\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0<\/span>echoed off the limestone
\n<\/span>and my father solved the silence
\n<\/span>with his always yellow paddle\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0<\/span>in our own dark lake
\n<\/span>Sounds like it has a sore throat. <\/span><\/i>And to think <\/span><\/p>\n

sometimes I forget to live.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

BRYCE BERKOWITZ<\/a><\/h6>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

After the eclipse, Carbondale, IL August 21, 2017 Crescent moons cut\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0from the shade between the breaks in the leaves,\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0decor on the planks of the Adirondack chairs\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 on the patio floor, where cops and surgeons gathered in the yard:\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1704,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"spay_email":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false},"categories":[54],"tags":[25],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6Jypy-3U0","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15004"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1704"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=15004"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15004\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":15064,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15004\/revisions\/15064"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=15004"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=15004"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=15004"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}