Today's poem is by Sharon Dolin
Lament of Shovel and Bell (noon)
Closest to sun-strength
at what well do I waver
upon which sky-web do I catch
with which still bell and with what
lavender toll do I shovel
my green self out
of this daily dolor?
At this noon glower I am sticky with despond
the ensign of my faith a fallen
rainbow caught in the roiling
teal of doubt.
I am praying my brokenness to You
but this searing bright has blinded me of Your face.
See, my eyes are scorched with squinting up
my branches have done flowering
but this toil however twig-
blunted I offer up amidst cloud thunder.
O do not abandon me to my enemies now.
Copyright © 2010 Sharon Dolin All rights reserved
from American Literary Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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