May 2018
I was born in Austria, grew up in Manchester, England, and lived for several years in Vienna before moving to Phoenix in 1978. Arizona’s landscapes and wildlife have become increasingly important to me and a significant part of my poetry. Meanwhile, I retain an appetite for reading Eugenio Montale, W. S. Merwin, Tomas Tranströmer and many other, often less celebrated, poets.
In the Light of Day
The coyote is liquid sunlight
as he flows from the front sidewalk
close to the wall
and into the back yard
where he stops to point his nose
at the sky
before the stones beneath him
blink, and he disappears.
But not
for long: he’s back in the world
while the world takes
another turn
through falling stocks, stalled
diplomacy, and the daily
effort to do what it takes
to stay alive.
He makes it look
so easy, in his glowing fur
as he moves from one
moment to the next
as if he were nothing
but a wish that slipped into a glove.
In the Light of Day
The coyote is liquid sunlight
as he flows from the front sidewalk
close to the wall
and into the back yard
where he stops to point his nose
at the sky
before the stones beneath him
blink, and he disappears.
But not
for long: he’s back in the world
while the world takes
another turn
through falling stocks, stalled
diplomacy, and the daily
effort to do what it takes
to stay alive.
He makes it look
so easy, in his glowing fur
as he moves from one
moment to the next
as if he were nothing
but a wish that slipped into a glove.
©2018 David Chorlton
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