Friday, June 7, 2013

A Poem by Steve Klepetar


Somewhere there are horses
loose in a canyon of clouds.

I listen for hoof beats wreathed
in silence, for whinnying cries

and the harmony of many colored
manes. I listen for the northward

flight of birds and all their rainbow
song.  It’s April and still snow

crowns every hill. Eagles fall
from the sky, feathery meteors

of hunger and lust.  All over
America the auctioneers have

started the bidding for spring. 
Money changes hands. 

Somewhere there are waves
and dolphins leap through distant

surf.  Somewhere whistles blow
and streams swell; tributaries flood

their banks.  River towns hang
in the rising tides. Our bridges

are lost, they cannot hold; our canals
were never made to hinder the sea. 

Waters thunder around our ears.
Somewhere a pebble rolls down a hill,

gathers dirt and rocks; whole mountains
shiver and skip and crumble into dust. 

Steve Klepetar teaches literature and creative writing at Saint Cloud State University.  His work has appeared all over the U.S., as well as in Canada, England, Northern Ireland, France, Australia and India.  His latest collection is Speaking to the Field Mice, recently released by Sweatshoppe Publications.

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