Today's poem is by Adam Clay
In Light of Recent Developments
We are not thinking of the president
tonight. Even now, there is a maze cut into a cornfield
not far from here.
The leaves pile up and we wait on the porch,
we are waiting for the leaves
to self-combust and enter the air, the atmosphere, our lungs.
It's easy to mistake
dust for smoke. It's easy to think of William Blake while the sun
burns a hole in my eyes. There is a certain labor I see in the sun,
a type of hard work someone once
warned me againstas if hard work and sweat
could wipe one from the face of the earth. Thinking
of salt pork and a bridge
fit for only one car at a time. A detailed aftermath.
An aftermath usually is. Memory,
like Blake, seems to change.
When I think of nature, nature thinks back.
Or nature blinks back. The man with a stroller
filled with aluminum cans is now coming back up the street
with a wheelbarrow. If that is what
he had been saving for,
I wish I had carried a bag of cans out to him. I once thought
expecting the worst was the best I could do.
Copyright © 2012 Adam Clay All rights reserved
from A Hotel Lobby at the Edge of the World
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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