From the collection Contingency Plans
(TS Poetry Press 2010).
Did you, by kismet, see the sky tonight,
its pallid stripe above a glowing frame,
the bound horizon, halfway held by light
and halfway sunk below our Boundary Bay?
Might you have noticed in its gloaming way
from mild, July translucent haze, the crisp,
deciduous, great silhouettes against
the firmament in darkened foliage trysts?
The noonday demon, cooled to tepid lisps
incomprehensible enough that we
can pause and hear the widened leaves all hiss
above his fervent muttering ennui.
Rejoice, again, my tired, doleful soul.
Rejoice, yet, even while tonight grows cold.
David Wheeler is a poet from Seattle who blogs at davewritesright.blogspot.com.
C. Christopher Smith is the founding editor of The Englewood Review of Books. He is also author of a number of books, including most recently How the Body of Christ Talks: Recovering the Practice of Conversation in the Church (Brazos Press, 2019). Connect with him online at: C-Christopher-Smith.com