"The sound and slack of it passed through me like gratitude."
-Seamus Heaney / © Mark W. Ó Brien 2016
~
Yolk of sun breaks as an incendiary inaugurates clouds of
deregulated soot. Yolk of light runs energy above base
overshadowed land. Fog shrouds lies. Lines ride into a black
gathering storm. A million pink hats bloom: our sea of amber
waves. Beloved mountain knows no boundaries of nation race
gender religion; only its own: nature’s notch on the horizon.
Peaking Obamaian blues. Purple majesties. Beneath roiling yolk,
power lines—short the Western staff—spark a new song.
sun yolk tossed above cast iron skillet
bursting flame on
people march march
© Dawn Marar 20/Mar/17
"Theseus had his thread, I have my mountain, and it reaches out to me."
© Mark W. Ó Brien 2016
~
Dawn Marar, a Hudson Valley Writers Guild board member was the recipient of the 2016 Steven A. DiBiase Poetry Prize.
"Theseus had his thread, I have my mountain, and it reaches out to me."
~
Dawn Marar, a Hudson Valley Writers Guild board member was the recipient of the 2016 Steven A. DiBiase Poetry Prize.
Oh. my. word. Love this writer - she uses words the way I feel them.
ReplyDelete