Produced by Dennis Camire
This week’s poem is by Preston Hood of Alfred. His most recent book is “The Hallelujah of Listening,” published by Cervena Barva Press.
By Preston Hood
Icy blue to walk on;
it’s autumn in the marsh; flamingos
migrate one thousand miles to the Atlantic
of fish & breaching whales. Often
the worm turns where the moon
is accented by the Great Blue Heron, & the sea
chooses the morning sky, dark blue
as lapis lazuli. In the ultramarine
of God-given song of blue bells
that sprawl in the spring, small islands
of peace. At the end of my life
is a beginning. The river below my house
is steel blue, raw umber, white lead;
geese across the twilight honk in tongues.
Often the worm
turns in my shadow, so I am hushed
by ink on a white page; I am tied
to the dark by ghosts. To be blue now,
to be bones burned with indigo, my spirit
rises, haze over marsh, ultramarine.
Dennis Camire can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org