In honor of National Poetry Month, The Thread is introducing Poetry Fridays. Each Friday in April, we will publish a selection of poetry from local independent publishing houses Graywolf Press and Coffee House Press.
• Poetry Friday: Week One
Muffin of SunsetsElaine Equi
The sky is melting. Me too.
Who hasn't seen it this way?
Pink between the castlework
drizzled over clouds.
It is almost catastrophic how heavenly.
A million poets, at least,
have stood in this very spot,
groceries in hand, wondering:
"Can I witness the Rapture
and still make it home in time for dinner?"
Marriage of Many YearsDana Gioia
Most of what happens happens beyond words.
The lexicon of lip and fingertip
defies translation into common speech.
I recognize the musk of your dark hair.
It always thrills me, though I can't describe it.
My finger on your thigh does not touch skin--
it touches your skin warming to my touch.
You are a language I have learned by heart.
This intimate patois will vanish with us,
its only native speakers. Does it matter?
Our tribal chants, our dances round the fire
performed the sorcery we most required.
They bound us in a spell time could not break.
Let the young vaunt their ecstasy. We keep
our tribe of two in sovereign secrecy.
What must be lost was never lost on us.