Dream-Said

 

A dream said sunrise, furnace

of the earth’s work,

 

the spackle dark

 

calls me to begin, oxygen, violence

of color, clock grid on the wall

 

(wreath)—

 

dock of the fishermen at dawn

teaches search

 

or coverage…

 

my grandfather’s 70 year

old carpet, he paced it

weeknights rehearsing sermons

in solitude

 

details

are mine, ornaments,

what has happened

whether it embitters or does not,

whether sight assuages, sieve

 

of each midstream

 

Taj Jackson