poem index

poet

Mike Carson

by this poet

poem
               John 3:27

I felt the sound begin when just a boy
Up in the dark, hot coffee in my gut,
Swung open the pasture gate beside the barn,
Stepped farther into chill, thick sodden grass,
Low mist, a few leftover stars that watched.
Among the clouds that split across the sky
I felt my way still higher,