Article voiceover
The One The banner of the sunrise in its autumnal diminishing hoists with heavy hosannas and a watercolor wash its calm moment of dawning, its broken promise of death. The poet rises from bed to examine the bent rays of light and consider creation of a new song to the dawn, an elegy for the night, an honor song for death’s death. The poet takes a deep breath and a long piss in the orange light of the back yard, the neighbors none the wiser, the new world creating new harmonies at the poet’s blest behest. The sun rises on its own funeral with glad wings and tall tales in its long, lingering train. And then the poet sits down to write his poem in the unfading light of the night.
Is the garden the poets church - where you bestow a benediction in honor of the night? The dawn’s light the choir.
Answers to the poet’s mandate!