Poetry New(s)

Dust

Someone spoke to me last night,

told me the truth. Just a few words,

but I recognized it.

I knew I should make myself get up,

write it down, but it was late,

and I was exhausted from working

all day in the garden, moving rocks.

Now I remember only the flavor--

not like food, sweet or sharp.

More like a fine powder, like dust.

And I wasn't elated or frightened,

but simply rapt, aware.

That's how it is sometimes--

God comes to your window,

all bright light and black wings,

and you're just too tired to open it.

--from Dorianne Laux's What We Carry.

Thanks, Traci, for recommending this collection. I have no idea how I've lived so long without Laux.

And in other news...

In the Carnival of Breathing is about to be born and is ready for pre-order (if you're interested). Here's a sample of what you'll find inside, as featured on the Black Lawrence Press website for National Poetry Month.

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