Daemon,
by Sandra Kohler

The August lilies flower, the butterfly bushes,
the rain-bowed tree hydrangea. The garden’s
my challenge this morning. To see life steadily
and see it whole – who could say that today?
Whose life? A man’s life, a woman’s, an Iraqi’s,
American’s, Italian’s, Somali’s? See with what
lens? In my dream’s, we’ve just moved, I’m
showing the rooms to a man delivering our old
rugs. We are transplanted to a life that’s new and
familiar, old pattern in a changed setting, laden
with baggage, belongings. The dream’s action is
constant as our breathing, sleeping and waking.
The morning’s murky, dark. Autumn in summer.
We are between storms – rain last night, rain
predicted. The porch is quiet, no hummingbirds,
finch. Insect buzz. When I open the door, start
out, coffee in hand, a great blue heron’s flying
through the garden, heading north in the mist.
I’m startled, stunned. A daemon at my threshold,
appearing as I come out to practice my craft.
Anointed, blessed, I could sit here and write
till the cows come home. What cows?

 

Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 14, Issue 2.

Sandra Kohler’s collection of poems, Improbable Music, appeared in May, 2011 from Word Press. The Ceremonies of Longing, winner of the 2002 AWP Award Series in Poetry, was published by the University of Pittsburgh Press in November, 2003. An earlier volume, The Country of Women, was published in 1995 by Calyx Books.

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