If I stay out here in this spring garden
exile long enough, the sun will return.
They say at the bottom of the gravest doubt
there is satori: I’m
missing their life stories already
their voices compatible with all the other voices
the cordiality, timorousness or bravery
of their unfinished sentences.
I follow a shovel into the earth. This is what
the desert once was, a brazen hike through
unaccounted for territory, where the
prayers, always works in progress
rose like smoke signals
easily believed and dispersed.
No answers
from the government or the bobble-headed Poe
figure all dressed in black on my desk or the
photo on my wall of the firing line of Apaches
fighting terrorism since 1492.
To reconcile what matters most with what might not
these brazen sorrows
first apricot tree blossoms
puncture the warming air.
John Macker is a poet, short story writer ands essayist, living in Santa Fe. In 2006, he edited the Desert Shovel Review. Was the recipient of Mad Blood magazine’s 2006 first annual literary arts award. He’s also the recipient of the 2001 Colorado Arts “Tombstone” Award for poetry, presented in Denver. He has been nominated for 2 Pushcart Small Press Prizes.
Has given readings, lectured, and taught workshops at colleges and festivals throughout the West, including El Paso Community College, Sparrows Poetry Festival, Colorado Mountain College, Colorado Mesa University, Edward Abbey Conference, Moab, Karen Chamberlain Poetry Festival, the Harwood Museum, Taos, the Duende Poetry Series, and Ziggie’s Poetry Festival in Denver. In 2009, his books were featured in A Mile High and Underground, an exhibit of Denver literary history, Auraria Campus, sponsored by the Colorado Historical Society.
Source: Mortar Magazine