Eric Ashford Poet Free verse

January Dawn Watch

You roll over the edge of an eyelid, measuring your body 
through a window.  
    Once you fit, you go outside of yourself
    where the sky is rising. 

A part of you is stirring coffee. Another part is beside the 
windowpane 
            glancing edgeways into your tongue.

Crows crash out of bare branches. The wind is in 
from lost town.

You find yourself observing the nerve endings of bare branches, 
even though the trees you are watching 
               are made of blood-filled dendrites 
pushing through thoughts. 

Robins flush out snow drifts, leaping like tigers. You shake 
mist out of your shoes, follow claw marks. 

You can see clouds swimming in the dim fathoms, 
where geese fish for meadow grass. 

Roads are passable. Wind-whales plow through 
narrowing perspectives, 
                       pushing insomnia ahead 
of a dark sleep. 

Freezing rain wrings eyes into hands that hide inside 
closed fists.

Because of the cold, there are warm regions of you 
that will not surface today. 

Dawn hovers in-between night and day. 
                     For a long moment 
gray ghosts pluck the ground like scavenging gulls.

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment