“Wanting a Blue Daybreak”<\/p>\n
Those weekend nights in winter when daybreak swapped stage
\nwith the bleak satin of twilight and no curtain could
\nmake midnight any less dark, I remember them
\nand the dunes of snow as we passed another distraught gas station,
\nhow we spent the month of February,
\ndriving for the sake of frozen gasoline.<\/p>\n
Closest to the window, farthest from any exploits of conversation,
\nI am so addicted to the cold, to the frost encrusted
\non the windows and melting them with a press of my palm.
\nTen minutes ago we were scrambling through a dirt trail
\nto a graveyard Alex said was haunted, spoiling half the reasons why
\nmid-journey. A row of disregarded porch lights enlightening
\nthe cusps of dusk, like smoldering Dresden, I wanted to leave
\nas soon as snow crunched underfoot when I shut the car door,
\nas soon as I first lost footing on the path, oiled by ice.
\nFeet shuffling in straight eighth notes,
\nevery tree harboring the same pallid post lacking color,
\nthey were the air vents either side for the real blackness
\nto seep through.<\/p>\n
A turn right up ahead and I will be the martyr of complaints.
\nReasonably so, veering off this path bright from moon particle,
\nand under shafts of oaken iron light, the graves are blurred
\nbeneath snow and night.
\nSomething incandescent about soggy flowers clinging to graves settled
\nin their earthen seats moved my eyes to the boughs limp overhead
\nand to a taut backdrop of sky.
\nStone cropped like my own hair a month ago, but not quivering
\nwith its hands in its pockets as I am.<\/p>\n
And a clich\u00e9d story of “haunted” fragments, rumors of four family members,
\nand here we shiver, four vagrant friends left with nothing to do but wade crystal water
\nwhere grass now sleeps.
\nI’m so far gone in mind that being last in line felt fitting.
\nI trip on a sliver of wind or ice as we leave, and the silence turned its face–
\nI get up as I had always: without another hand.
\nNoah and Hayana say practically nothing there and back, but does not stop.
\nUnder my chapped breath I am the da capo, the repeat sign
\nwhispering how stupid this is; I am Colonel Sartoris running away,
\nbut I only wish it.<\/p>\n
Returned to the car, I breathe hollow air into my palms,
\ncupped like a cavern. The only suggestion I included just now,
\nfrom Traverse to Grawn and back, was to play some music on the CD player.
\nI see now the other side of the road we passed an hour earlier,
\nconfiding to God that if I was in His place, all those people would have
\ndied the same, no speck of dust disturbed.
\nThe melted snow slipping down my ankles, I tap those same
\nuncertain feet to the instruments behind Buddy Nielsen’s voice,
\nall the way past Chum’s Corners. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
“Wanting a Blue Daybreak” Those weekend nights in winter when daybreak swapped stage with the bleak satin of twilight and no curtain could make midnight any less dark, I remember them and the dunes of snow as we passed another distraught gas station, how we…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":281,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6695","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6695","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/281"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6695"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6695\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":15311,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6695\/revisions\/15311"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6695"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6695"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6695"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}