Providing grounds for the greening of human language.

 

 

 

 

Most Days, the Morning Sun’s a Blazing Smudge by Mark Penny

by Jonathon | 2.14.14

Mark image

Most days, the morning sun’s a blazing smudge
Athwart the city’s searing opal dome,
An egg dropped on an egg, the crack of dawn
Sprawling against a shield that will not budge.
But sometimes, when I stay up all the night
To will my love of nature on the world,
No screen of silken, dusty gray or white
Conceals the chick of heaven where it’s curled.
Those days, the line of jungled, jumbled crags
That spine this island juts along the east
Like a cold lizard basking and the rags
Of last night’s laundry tremble at the beast.
Then the frail yellow phoenix lifts its head
To light the sky and burn awake the dead.

_______________________________________
Mark headshotA middle-aged man in Taiwan
Declared it was time to get on
With his stories and verse
Before loading the Hearse.
It’s of him the above is the spawn.

Mark is, if not ubiquitous, variously present, as follows: Mars Denar, ici, Lowly Seraphim, Dawning of a Brighter Day, Sunstone, and Dialogue.

Photo by the poet.

2 Responses to Most Days, the Morning Sun’s a Blazing Smudge by Mark Penny

  1. Patricia K

    Intense. As in “very”.

  2. Sarah Dunster

    Egg on egg, the crack of dawn. Love that.

Leave a Reply