Saturday, January 03, 2009

nighttime in kansas city

[this poem originally appeared in the Spring 2008 issue of EPIC]

Let memory say I am home tonight,
where all is again made new
and light must be sound
since everything hums softly
in rhythm with this town,
where fountains sigh into
the same open palms of
starlight cupped over streets
that knew my first summer
as the year of the pennant,
a century after this moon
crooned to the stockyard cowhands
who’d sang my wander-song
until stopped in the place
where I choose to stand.
Memory will say
I am here until morning sees
my city no longer,
where the lyrics are old,
the night a troubadour
and this, the year of my birth.

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