| | Ode, Aubade by Greg Wrenn And the morning, too,
falters,
struggles to
assert itself,
burn through
the errant
fog, the pines,
scorch the
whole grove
of trees
and crooked
streetlamps. Your
body's turning,
turning
beside me
in my bed's--
sprawl?
Badlands?
You sigh
On my neck.
Startled,
the crick
and sob buried inside it
like a pulsar
behind dust,
like a larva
in a bean,
want out. |
|
| Copyright © 2013 by Greg Wrenn. Used with permission of the author. |
About this Poem: "This speaker sees his defining characteristics in the dawn: ambivalence, self-doubt, and a capacity for destruction. What is the consolation to be had on such a morning? Beside him is his restless, still-sleeping bedfellow--love's capacity for transformation, for pushing the human animal toward self-realization, temporarily abides."
Greg Wrenn |
 Poetry by Wrenn Centaur |
Poem-A-Day launched in 2006 and features new and previously unpublished poems by contemporary poets on weekdays and classic poems on weekends. Browse the Poem-A-Day archive. |
| Thanks for being a part of the Academy of American Poets community. To learn about other programs, including National Poetry Month, Poem in Your Pocket Day, the annual Poets Forum, and more, visit Poets.org. |
| | | | 
Greg Wrenn's first book of poems, Centaur (University of Wisconsin Press, 2013) was awarded the Brittingham Prize. A former Wallace Stegner Fellow, he is a native of northeast Florida and currently teaches at Stanford University. |
| Related Poems by Devin Johnston by Carl Phillips by Matthew Rohrer |
|
No comments:
Post a Comment