And on into the so-called dark.
Back home, a so-called common
yellowthroat flickers like a lit Zippo.
The Audubon Field Guide reports
this chunky round-headed songbird
has succeeded by being a nonconformist,
taking up residence where few warblers would.
In open marshes and practically every reed-bed
and patch of cattails from coast to coast
its low rough witch’s croon
puts a pinprick in the glade tapestry.
Back home, the President beneath
blue-gelled overheads explains
In the immediate aftermath of 9/11,
we did some things that were wrong.
We did a whole lot of things
that were right, but
we tortured some folks.
Back home, the speed needed to leave
our solar system is called escape velocity.
Some used to think Pluto was a body calved
from the belly of Neptune, but New Horizons
returns evidence it’s likely an agglomeration
of comets. Like any comet, solar wind
is gradually blowing Pluto’s surface into space,
so-called space, laden with a whole lot of things.
James Kelly Quigley’s poetry has received Pushcart Prize and Best New Poets nominations. Recent work has been published or is forthcoming in The Los Angeles Review, New York Quarterly, Denver Quarterly, Narrative, SLICE, The American Journal of Poetry, and other places. Say hello at jameskellyquigley.com.