It was the crow’s fault.
It flew in at midnight,
its shadow the shadow
of cloud, tree and post.
But not of moon. The moon
was a cracked egg in the sky.
Throughout the night it dozed.
Then, as the thin milk of dawn
coated the earth, it stirred, its caw
a repeated whisk,
a repeated swirl of moon
into sun. Bright. Brighter. Brightest.
It poured sun on the griddle
of streets. Day puffed up,
a soufflé, a baked blend
with bits of house, walk, and hedge
folded into the rising mix
until it set, brown at the edges.
Joyce Nower has coordinated arts festivals, poetry readings and
workshops at many venues, and was a co-founder of the
Women's Studies Program at San Diego State University
(1970). During June of 1999, she gave lectures on contemporary
American poetry at various universities in the People's
Republic of China -- her third book of poetry,
published by Avranches Press, is called The Qin Warriors
and Other Poems (2003). Her poetry and prose has or
is scheduled to appear in Miller's Pond,
Feile-Feste, Visions-International, Avatar Review,
California Quarterly, Eden Waters Press, Poemeleon, and The
National Poetry Review. Currently she writes a column of poetry
criticism called "Intersections" for the online
magazine The Alsop Review.