In Lux Perpetua
Early Harvest, Mooncake moon, deadnamed,
demythed, neutered, since woked SuperBlue,
stars too swollen like desert heat before dawn
up and down Sonoma Ranch to Golf, past Coyote
Ridge and El Segundo Trail, The Grille at Sunset,
putting green sward, driving range, climbing higher
into Palm Canyon and Cave Creek, between which
slipknot gap white flows way west to the Coast, Sea,
as Asian-greige smog and once secret realms already
tomorrow, stuff dreams were once made on to claim
the not-then-heavenly-known paving our autumn’s,
or any other season’s nights,’ way, whether full-ripe,
halved or quartered, in the mind’s eye, all-at-once,
Moon, in plainspeak, metaphor, meme, everywhere.
.
Total Eclipse
April 08-12.2024
Rising frisky April moon
calls to mind past loves,
mostly forgotten,
though not flame-haired Barb
(her I remember!)
holding my hand
each school day
on the B bus while I read
Gibran’s sheer white
slim hardback Prophet,
or his other, lesser,
stacked in my bedroom,
who told me not one,
but two, filthy jokes,
a French lady, liquor,
I didn’t get at all,
mostly don’t now
in my semi-dotage
more involved with
day’s deep darkening
total eclipse
than my lame love groove,
now memory
in ecstatic freefall
.
GTimothy Gordon divides lives between New Mexico/Texas borderland Chihuahuan Desert Southwest Organ Mountains and Asia. Dream Wind was published 2020 (Spirit-of-the-Ram), Ground of This Blue Earth (Mellen), while Everything Speaking Chinese was awarded the Riverstone Poetry Prize (AZ). Work appears in AGNI, American Literary Review, Cincinnati PR, Mississippi Review, New York Quarterly, RHINO, Sonora Review, Texas Observer, several nominated for Pushcarts and Best of the Net. Empty was published January 2024 (Cyberwit P), Blue Business in-almost-finished-progress (60). GTimothy Gordon (Tim/he/him) gtimothyg@gmail.com
Stone Poetry Quarterly 