Can you hear them
tell us all to gather
sonics slightly ahead of wind?
Below the swan shapes
a question with her satin neck.
And white on white
the lily pad content to sink
politely under the season,
I am awake but sleeping—the reed
I am the dread, the parasite breeding,
Still I blink for the cosmos,
blink for a speck of light.
You be the swirl-between
as the geese fly over,
their imperfect arrowhead
sharper than your sharpest part,
And you need not blindfold me
I would go gladly, think of it
we could be an envoy instead
of saber or gun, a complete circle
free to spiral reshape ourselves
free to make the tiniest circumscribed
part as important as the whole.
Poem by Gloria Nixon-John
Gloria has published poetry, fiction, essays, pedagogical articles and chapters in small and mainstream presses including Apogee, Clover, Dunes Review, English Journal, Panoply, River Teeth, Wanderlust Journal, A3 Maps and Literature, Bangalore, to name a few. Her novel, The Killing Jar, the story of one of the youngest Americans to serve on death row, was published in 2012 and her Memoir, Learning From Lady Chatterley, written in narrative verse, was published in 2015. Her poetry chapbook, Breathe me a Sky, was published in 2019 by The Moonstone Art Center. Gloria lives with her horses, dogs, cats and husband, Mike in Oxford, Michigan where they are also visited by abundant wildlife. In her free time, she likes to visit flea markets and garage sales where she enjoys talking with strangers.