True North
by Richard Stolorow

Somewhere from his law exacting heart
and practical albeit car-camping mind
because we were in Canada and might canoe
he had me ask them what the correction was
for the magnetic pole.  I felt the fool

and suffered his pretense and set up tent
and drank and ate and slept
in the glorious north country.
I loved him still, like the mist
settling on the lake at dusk
though privately I scoffed, his constant toys—
the car, the boat, the blonde.  I admit

I envied him and struggled with philosophy.
What was happiness after all?
Adrift in my simpler life I reached
for notions that would secure me.
I couldn’t hold them and still love.
Something invisible drew me out of true.
And there was no correction.


Richard Stolorow has worked as an English teacher, handyman,
concierge, and book clerk.  His fiction and poetry have been published
in a dozen or so literary magazines.  He currently lives in Providence,
Rhode Island.  

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Apple Valley Review:
A Journal of Contemporary

ISSN 1931-3888

Volume 2, Number 2
(Fall 2007)

Copyright © 2007
by Leah Browning, Editor.  

All future rights to material
published in the
Valley Review
are retained
by the individual authors
and artists.