top of page

In the Flying Dream


Rush of rim and black rock, soar

and cinematic pitch—it was

that vast: canyons, wheat fields, thunder

clouds at night—bend of knees

and London was a gabled scene

with water slides, spires and nave—

Paris.

Bridges soft with snow

benevolent as Whitman’s gaze. You

were there

and so I carried you, oceanic

downward drift of weightlessness to

earthen nests of waking waiting.

Not fire’s hour,

not Icarus. Not father failure. Earth.


 

Laurie Lamon has poems in The Atlantic, The New Republic, Plume, Ploughshares, J Journal, Innisfree Poetry Journal, The Literary Review, and others. She has published two poetry collections with CavanKerry Press: The Fork Without Hunger, and Without Wings. She is the recipient of a Pushcart Prize and was selected by Donald Hall as a Witter Bynner Fellow in 2007. She currently holds the Amy Ryan Endowed professorship at Whitworth University in Spokane, Washington, and is the poetry editor for the literary journal Rock & Sling. Her work is forthcoming in Ploughshares, Arts & Letters Journal of Contemporary Culture, and Innisfree Poetry Journal.

Comentarios


bottom of page