2009 Poem

by David Radavich

A shopkeeper hoists baskets
with a pole, waiter

polishes silver teapots
wearing gloves,

thin smoker
in high heels swings

hips by
like signposts.

Even the morning

knows the sun has arisen,
work begins anew

as yeasts rise,
steam kisses grates

and lovers
recover their skin

like saints
following prayer.

Food will again
enter bodies,

minds turn
over newsprint,

breaths
will gather air

the way God
made gases swirl

before astronomy
ached in the aerosphere.

Published in The Countries We Live In (2014).

David Radavich