The Song of the Lark
Red light is a song, string solo,
fiddle melancholy; somebody’s sunset
waltz tipped arrowhead, let
the shaft fly.
Dull circle plod of seasons—grow and die,
and grow, and die, and oh, and eye,
and you, and I--
tunnel vision. Look up sudden! Rough
as furrow, always-bare feet, grabbed and shook
hooked look look! --
There’s a horizon, and a shade of redgold sunhold
never seen before. The string pricks,
the bow skips, and here I am, come
home to myself, this stupid joy, this buzz-
numb hope, struck dumb with singing, singing.
LeighAnna Schesser is the author of Heartland, forthcoming from Anchor & Plume Press in June 2016. Her work has appeared in or is forthcoming from Mothers Always Write, Rose Red Review, and Kindred, among others. LeighAnna earned her M.F.A. from North Carolina State University. She lives in Kansas with her husband and two children. She writes at leighannaschesser.wordpress.com.
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