– after Edward Hopper
It must be morning.
Long bellies of cloud hug
such a thin edge of ground
there’s no way of knowing
what world the road bends to –
uncut grass, browned deep,
an after-thought of scattered pines,
this house with blinds in place
behind dark windows. Someone
still comes here, still knows.
A creak here, a scratch there,
wind at the chimney’s mouth,
then groaning under the eaves.
Originally published at Corium Magazine.
Sam Rasnake’s works, receiving five nominations for the Pushcart Prize, have appeared in The Southern Poetry Anthology, Best of the Web 2009, Wigleaf, OCHO, MiPOesias Companion 2012, Big Muddy, Literal Latté, LUMMOX 2012, BOXCAR Poetry Review Anthology 2, and Dogzplot Flash Fiction 2011. His latest poetry collections are Lessons in Morphology (GOSS183) and Inside a Broken Clock (Finishing Line Press).
Sam’s latest book is Cinéma Vérité (A Minor Press).
Sam is also the energetic editor/publisher at Blue Five Notebook, where I work with him as fiction editor. I have featured his poetry here before, and I’ll surely do it again. I always find something new with each reading. He’s a remarkable poet and a great person to work with. -ME
Tuesday Poem is a collective of poets who share poetry on a weekly basis across borders and time zones. Click on over to the main TP hub and see what’s happening. This week you’ll find Jogong Moth by Joe Dolce. You can also find poems by the various TP collective members — look down the left-hand sidebar and click on each one to see their weekly contributions.
For more Tuesday Poems, go here.