This inland fog dusts this day
like shadow darkens night, but
the light is ethereal, lustrous.
Traffic passes from nothing to
nothing are apparitions gliding
the sea of clouds between us.
Aon
all the way far side of Chatham. The morning run
through
Lakeshore pulls the humid edges of Souwesto’s
dirty
south. Time itself has shifted in the manner that
assembly
lines grind our days into individual pockets
of
freedom myths bought on extended credit. Late stage
fall
adles the earth between bronzes, golds, coppers.
And
a gauze of water in the sky singly refutes all attempts
at
motion. Light finds ways to attached to the sweep
of
turbine blades, the naked branches of distant wood lots.
and
the
distant folding
of
black
speckled
startlings
above
Michigan
Bound rigs
transmutes
from smoke burst to vibrant life
resolving to motion
in
the sky
the adheres
to
MacDonald Cartier Freeway.
D.A. Lockhart is the author of multiple collections of poetry and short fiction. His work has been shortlisted for the Raymond Souster Award, Indiana Author’s Awards, First Nations Communities READ Award, and has been a finalist for the Trillium Book and ReLit Awards. His work has appeared widely throughout Turtle Island including, The Malahat Review, Grain, CV2, TriQuarterly, The Fiddlehead, ARC Poetry Magazine, Best Canadian Poetry, Best New Poetry from the Midwest, and Belt. Along the way his work has garnered numerous Pushcart Prize nominations, National Magazine Award nominations, and Best of the Net nominations. He is pùkuwànkoamimëns of the Moravian of the Thames First Nation. Lockhart currently resides at Waawiiyaatanong where he is the publisher at Urban Farmhouse Press.
