David Filer has a degree in English Literature from the University of California at Santa Barbara and a law degree from the University of Oregon. He is an attorney in Portland, Oregon. His poems have appeared recently in ZYZZYVA, Slant, Legal Studies Forum, Small Brushes, Red River Review, James River Poetry Review, and Gumball Poetry.
Sometimes, just at sundown, when the hillsides
have fallen deeply into shadow, light
and wind sweep eastward, up the river
together, rattling the old cottonwoods,
roughing the water into pewter scales,
casting the landscape in perfect relief.
You know, in that instant, the secret of
happiness is being where the mystery
lasts no longer than it takes to look out,
see it, and see it resolve into dark,
as if it had been that familiar dream,
and you, ready, almost, to understand.
