Another Day Has Come

"Another day has come,
Another fabulous escape from the damages of night,
So even the gulls, in the ragged circle of their flight,
Above the sea's long lanes that flash and fall, scream
Their approval..." – Mark Strand, from "A.M."










We could just as easily guage our terror
by how the lightening had begun to spear
down over the darkening bay, itself lit
like such a black mirror struck by jagged fissures,
for aren't they so indiscriminate as to tease
us away from any knowing of what is to come;
now, this is no longer a childhood of weather.
I remember that clandestine meadow
once lured me into its own innocent
auditorium as if by a Circe's fleshy fingers
and most of me then felt of the meadow:
a buzzing above the pollinators soaked
by a motherhood of sunshine so pure
as to wipe away every single lingering fear.
I remember the stolid blue bays of Superior
how they too sent out a sort of hand
to knowing, the ancient rocks surrounding,
buoying up the docked tankers which had
made its own course journey over mere
lake waves and I had come to its secrecy,
those scenes which have lasted forever.
The lightening had come and hovered
over our lives for the stretch of hours,
it knows nothing, it does not strive or repent.
When the world first too breath we wonder
if this was one of the scenes. Look inward.