Aubade: Homesong Poem by Sidney Burris
Aubade: Homesong
Big sun already, fourth of July; waves
of heat creasing vision; scent
of magnolia strong-arms the yard;
exhausted zinnias buckle under.
Huge morning wanders my way,
familiar, supple; I know its swathe
and waste, its storm-cowl
hung on the horizon.
Some memories you wear like a locket.
It's heartless, though,
this imageless gravity of home,
this savage lodestone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/3/2024 9:24:41 PM # 1.0.0.1119
