June 15, 2012

Sunrising by Joan Colby



A cape of frost. Stars dissolving
like ice cubes in Cointreau. Fields
stretch windless to the east
where the body of love is rising.

The dog noses dagger-leaves
beneath the disarmed willow.
Light is imminent.
Beyond the blue shield, Venus, Mars, the battered moons
of Saturn, pure and braided rings
confounding theory.

Fly outward
each probe discovers another mystery.
Hold out your fingers. How many possible solutions
reside in these emblems of the decimal system.

Infinity: a result of numbers
and the love of numbers. The frost melts
into another form of energy.

The dog's black shadow
dogs his moseying. My thoughts blur
into the milk of morning.
Wordsworth calls across the fence
"all things that love the sun are
out of doors."







Seven books published including The Lonely Hearts Killers, The Atrocity Book, etc. Over 980 poems in publications including Poetry, Atlanta Review, Spoon River Poetry Review, The New York Quarterly, South Dakota Review, Epoch, etc. Two Illinois Arts Council Literary Awards (one in 2008) and an IAC Literary Fellowship. Honorable mention in the 2008 James Hearst Poetry Contest—North American Review and the 2009 Editor’s Choice Contest--Margie, and finalist in the 2007 GSU (now New South) Poetry Contest, 2009 Nimrod International Pablo Neruda Prize, 2010 James Hearst Poetry Contest and Ernest J. Poetry Prize Joan Colby lives on a small horse farm in Northern Illinois with her husband and assorted animals.

2 comments:

  1. Wow, that was really great. Love the imagery. I almost stopped reading because, well, it was about space travel but your use of ideas, math, and imagery made me keep reading and am glad I did. Keep up the good work.

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    1. Thank you. I'm glad youliked the poem.

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