Hi, blog readers! I hope you’re all having lovely weeks. Because today is Wednesday, it’s time for a new featured poem here on the blog. These poems all come from Poetry Daily, which is a great website for finding new poetry to read. This week we feature Most Mornings by Sawnie Morris.
According to her bio page, Sawnie Morris has published a chapbook, The Sound a Raven Makes, which won a Poetry Society of America George Bogin Memorial Award. She has written about poetry and poets for Kenyon Review, Contemporary Literary Criticism, and the Boston Review. Her writing has won a Texas PEN Literary Award.
Most Mornings by Sawnie Morris
I woke slightly out of breath. Winded from the ghosted
run between the land of living and the country of my death, I’d drag my dreams
behind me, from bed to desk, write poems of sleep and ink and newsprint.
Ah sleep. Sleep and summer smoke.
From its cage, the fan purred a noisy exhale.
The mocking bird outside our bedroom window
sang in all the local tongues and dialects.
Your car, leaving up the graveled drive,
made for a lonely sound—
and a relief.
The dog would rest his head on cagey front paws,
make an effort at patience. The appliances would be truly patient
though full of curiosity
about what might come next.
The doorbell might have rung
if we’d had one.
We’d listened to the forecast. Sony by the bed and bath.
Bose above the compact discs and art books.
Radio news unleashed and born again.
Thank god, we’d say, for the “on” and “off” switch.
Then one night a voice from dream announced,
In one or two weeks there’ll be a catastrophe.
Winds were driven. Waters rose. Levees broke.
What will you take with you? the dream
I hope you enjoyed this week’s featured poem! If you’re looking for more, click here.
— Jet Fuel Blog Editor, Mary Egan