When the Sky is Distant
Air becomes just another part of you
Sounds clack the silent sides of building choirs
And the zombies are steeled against the cold.
August is a memory, a promise,
A dream to bulwark against the day’s drab.
Hands in gloves remember lake water,
While bowed heads scan naked sidewalks.
Breath, pneuma, escapes through parted chapped lips
In faceless wanderings, rushings, always
Miss ice sparkle like stars on close blacktop.
About the Author: What is there left to say about Marc Janssen, other than he should eat more vegetables? Maybe his verse can be found scattered around the world in places like Pinyon, Orbis, Pure Slush, Cirque Journal, Two Thirds North and Poetry Salzburg also in his book November Reconsidered and his recent book collaboration A Resurrection of Trees. Janssen coordinates the Salem Poetry Project- a weekly reading, the occasionally occurring Salem Poetry Festival and keeps getting nominated for Oregon Poet Laurate. For more information visit, marcjanssenpoet.com.
Image Credit: Claude Monet “Winter Landscape with Evening Sky” Public domain image courtesy of Artvee
As It Ought To Be 