Ohio Dawning's
Did you remake yourself
out of rust and algae again?
Yesterday was a gray beached hull
now it’s summer in the cornfields,
the tangy air has a towheaded fizz.
The mosquitoes have submarines
they crash-dive each new morn.
The flowers are all gulping,
and the rain is just enough.
Light flirts around mossy steel silos
and the brick and mortar works
of grandfatherly hands.
Sorry I missed you,
I hear your dawn was spectacular,
that the mist was a chromed coin
on the tongues of farm hands.
At that moment
I was watching a nickel dipped sunrise
paddle over a shimmering horizon.
I photographed it,
but missed all the otherness elsewhere,
and of course you had changed again
before I could get to you.
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