®

Today's poem is by Patty Seyburn

One Twenty-One A.M.
       

Full moon through clerestory slats.
Pursuant mist.
The room persuades me of
the logic of inanimacy.
The mirror's mereness in the body
of so much evidence.
How is it that so much comes clear at this time?
How are you faring in the whale's belly of sleep?
My belly is alert to possibility, an ululant sea.
It's a gothic night-you know the type—
all shroud
all supernal intimations of beyond.
Anachronism crowds the house's portals.
My turn, my turn, it says.
This is a deciduous world,
full of falling offs.



Copyright © 2010 Patty Seyburn All rights reserved
from Hilarity
Western Michigan University Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

Support Verse Daily
Sponsor Verse Daily!

Home    Archives   Web Monthly Features    About Verse Daily   FAQs  Submit to Verse Daily   Publications Noted & Received   Follow Verse Daily on Twitter

Copyright © 2002-2010 Verse Daily All Rights Reserved