Today's poem is by Amy Fleury
The Progress of Night
In the late elegiac light, insects
chide the frail contraption of the sky,
its faulty system of pulleys and wires.
Piteous stars circuit the stripped gears
of galaxy as crickets keep grinding
out twilight's tinny, dwindling music.
Again that pale immigrant blunders in
to watch over the progress of night,
to observe the grim magics we practice,
all the oaths we take and make and utter.
What comfort can we offer another
traveler under this same unsteady scaffold?
We'll find no charm against calamity.
Though the dark architecture of the heart
is buttressed by sternum, girded by ribs,
we build our lives from its very trembling.
Copyright © 2004 Amy Fleury All rights reserved
from Beautiful Trouble
Southern Illinois University Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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