Friday, September 20, 2013

The Morning Reading: "I can almost hear the ocean made of falling chandeliers"

Second Fall in the Afterlife
- Dean Young

First I go out into the yard
to see what survived the night.
The broken birdbath still holds
a few handfuls of water,
good enough for the grackles
to keep their capes immaculate
and the mounds of the fire ants
between some paving stones
look bigger, proof of the progress
of their underground pyramids.
Back inside, my cat has cornered
something invisible and struts about
in triumph. Swallowing my morning dose,
I can almost hear the ocean
made of falling chandeliers
my wife’s listening to on headphones
reading about the care of blind lion cubs
on the Internet. Maybe this month
the jasmine will finally pull the house
down. Who wouldn’t rather dissolve
in the mouths of flowers than be trampled
by the stampede charging into the sky?


Found, in all place, the New York Times Style Magazine. Click here.

Photo of Dean Young by Tracy Hall, taken in Squaw Valley, a few years back. 

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I love this poem! Thank you Lisa.

the other L

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