A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature
I’m leaning out the window, looking
up Rue Pascal, up the hill toward
Mouffetard, where soon the markets
will overflow with fresh produce and fish,
and dozens of restaurants will open
in the afternoon. The sun is still
just below the rooftops up the hill,
and the street is quiet. Cars are parked
bumper to bumper, the same way people
are jammed into restaurant seats at night.
The early morning light is soft and clear,
and a pigeon floats aimlessly from roof to roof,
never settling long on any peak. I turn back
into my room and stand a long time, listening
to the slow, deep breath of a woman who sleeps
so peacefully she seems almost a dream
herself, sheet drawn down to expose
her shoulder, back and hip. Am I too old,
too much the fool, to board
another mystery ship?
Copyright 2018 The Estate of Sam Hamill. From After Morning Rain published by Tiger Bark Press. Included in Vox Populi by permission of the publisher.