Above Dead Oak Creek A.M.

Strained to catch the view
Of a morning
That preceded all of this

All of this new history
We now endure.
Sister anxiety.

Refuse to turn-off though
The soundtrack of my own,
Familiar root it is

That calls my name again
Resting me under flora here
Above creek

Before all of this
Turned my head,
Forced me to shelter

Children eyes and vantage
Hidden bloom.
I want to walk a wideness

Strain rewarded soon
Out in the open-
This open.

No one can tell me how
To compose yet
To oppose or support

Simply by virtue
Of poet-ish endeavor.
My creed alone

I just prevail
That's all,
Prevail.

Was that my name I heard
In falling rain
That turned stoney

Out by the new fence?

by L. Ward Abel

Other poems of ABEL (1)

Comments (1)

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