Nisus and Euryalus
In winter shut behind doors we’d shoot
contests from the foul line: a game
of who could make
most in a row. Beginning again and again until
our arms ached, when dinner was called
we walked back
to the common room as slow as we liked, practically
touching we were so close, jostling one another,
gravel sliding underfoot.
I watched you in a game of pickup, moving between defenders,
cutting to the basket; it was like they were
fumbling in the dark—
you made it look that easy, and I loved you. On the court
unstoppable; we swatted the ball,
fluid in our moving
together. You caught me up into yourself cracking
jokes when I wanted to cry, taking me on walks
or to the courts
to beat me again; you beat me at everything. It broke me
to lose you in the dark, in the brambles where I tried
retracing my steps,
you in the enemy’s camp, captured or defected
I couldn’t tell. I wept over leaving you alone to juke, or sprint,
or cut whatever
way you needed to get yourself free. I couldn’t hold you
then; I had a job to do, and watched you led
away,
and girded myself in the shining helmet, running the path
to where our own forces lay, to deliver
the message of war.
Joshua Kulseth earned his B.A. in English from Clemson University, his M.F.A. in poetry from Hunter College, and his Ph.D. in poetry from Texas Tech University. His poems have appeared and are forthcoming in Tar River Poetry, The Emerson Review, The Worcester Review, Rappahannock Review, The Windhover, and others. His poetry manuscript, Leaving Troy, was shortlisted for the Cider Press Review Publication Competition and has recently been accepted for publication by Finishing Line Press. He is currently an Assistant Professor of English and Creative Writing at Franciscan University of Steubenville.