SPLIT THIS ROCK: Poems of Provocation & Witness Rosemary Winslow   MORNING WITH BUTTER SKY After a photograph by James Nachtwey–Djacovica, Kosovo, 1999 1. Morning, if it is morning. Suit, hat, tie striding. Scarecrow or man? Not one bird of the air in numbered feathers. Among rubble, one row house. Gray windows. Can’t see through. One street, clear. Butter sky and striding. Is he a neighbor, a father, a son? Will I ever be done drawing my body back into shell? 2. Nights I have been dreaming a chambered candle glow on panoramas of rubble. I am beyond, regarding dissolved cities. The sky is yellow, ringed with night. I fail to discover my own house.   Rosemary Winslow's new book, Green Bodies (The Word Works), tracks a movement through the grief of lost love and lost loved ones and finds a way back to love, compassion, forgiveness. Her work has appeared in numerous journals (including Poet Lore, The Southern Review, Valparaiso Poetry Review, and Innisfree Poetry Journal) and anthologies (including Voices from Frost Places, The Why and After, Poems of Recovery, and The Farmer's Daughter). Her essays on American poets, style, prosody, teaching writing, metaphor, and other topics have appeared widely in journals, encyclopedias, and books. She teaches at The Catholic University of America and lives in downtown Washington, DC.   Published in Volume 9, Number 1, Winter 2008. Read more by this author: Rosemary Winslow: The Whitman Issue Rosemary Winslow Rosemary Winslow: The Wartime Issue Rosemary Winslow: Evolving City Issue