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The Dawn
The Sun rises...
I know the supposed science
of light,
bips and wavy lines of
pulsed propagation
like a heart
like emotions~
how human feelings start
and stop, the forward/backward of time --
the morning news
our repeated proclamations
stagnation and regressive
signatures, announced and printed
shouted over electronic airways
man’s modern-day gazettes
dawn’s transparent lush
on my face,
I admire and study –
the brushwork of gleams~
patterns of my traveled summits
and depressions indented
zebra primrose blossoming, in short
what love created such marvelous
striations? Say ye a God~ surely even
the moron
in glaring absence of other proof
would not guess less?
Him/Her? Our Blessed Hermaphrodite
of sentient-being creating, of morphing-realms
unending evolving
salacious advances of life mating,
entangling, imparting fond mysteries --
lips of roses unfurling, curling, inviting
nearer breaths for uninhibited exploration –
such exposure awakens and sleeps
yet we sense beyond-maturity
delve the wizard behind the curtain
all us Dorothys
trying to find a true way home
imaginable, at least a steady firmament though we
slip precipitously – My thought, to dust, clean and change
the sheets, as a new warmth attempts to re-freshen
recover nature’s veiled cycles our nightly often deeply
staining retreats
Copyright ©
Joe Dimino
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