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Monday
Oct072019
The light stacked up
Monday, October 7, 2019 at 07:44AM 
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M a c k e r e l S k y
Sears Tower
Chicago, Illinois
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An old mortality, These evening doorways into rooms,
this door from the kitchen and there’s the yard
the grass not cut and filled with sweetness
and in the thorn the summer wounding the sun.
And locked in the shade the dove calling down.
The glare’s a little blinding still but only
for the moment of surprise, like suddenly
coming into a hall with a window at the end,
the light stacked up like scaffolding. I am
that boy again my father told not to look
at the ground so much looking at the ground.
I am the animal touched on the forehead, charmed.
In the sky the silver maple like rain in a cloud
we’ve tied: and I see myself walking from what looks like
a classroom, the floor waxed white, into my father’s
arms, who lifts me, like a discovery, out of this life.
this door from the kitchen and there’s the yard
the grass not cut and filled with sweetness
and in the thorn the summer wounding the sun.
And locked in the shade the dove calling down.
The glare’s a little blinding still but only
for the moment of surprise, like suddenly
coming into a hall with a window at the end,
the light stacked up like scaffolding. I am
that boy again my father told not to look
at the ground so much looking at the ground.
I am the animal touched on the forehead, charmed.
In the sky the silver maple like rain in a cloud
we’ve tied: and I see myself walking from what looks like
a classroom, the floor waxed white, into my father’s
arms, who lifts me, like a discovery, out of this life.
= Stanley Plumly =
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Happy Monday
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