JOHNMICHAEL SIMON POETRY

It has taken many names

aha, déjà vu,

remembrance of future,

 

this is it —

a July afternoon

cloudless, a bicycle,

summer light beating

through its spokes,

tree trunks flashing past

shimmering into other places,

wearing other clothes

a long white robe perhaps,

sandals, biblical sandals

treading white flagstones,

temple columns, marble/granite?

stretching to a cloudless

yes that’s it – cloudless!

 

Transistor radio, tinny

in handlebar wire basket

fragrance of wild fig, a bird

breaks from its branch, the news

exactly as I heard it sandaled

‘regrets to announce, at half

past two this afternoon’, spokes

cloudless, flagstones,

moment torn from a history book

alone in a world captured

in a second that spans centuries

 

this is it —

a July afternoon

a voice from somewhere

sky full of voices

echoing over flagstones

the prayer for the dead ascending

alone in silence

beneath a cloudless afternoon

regrets to announce, regrets

to announce, regrets

to announce