Americana I the blue sky poem

Michael Mackin O’Mara works for a nonprofit in West Palm Beach,  Florida. He is the managing editor of the South Florida Poetry Journal concentrating on audio and video submissions. He has been published by Chantwood Magazine, Door is a Jar, Fields Magazine, Slag Review, Switched-on Gutenberg, Silver Birch Press and Indolent Books. His hobbies include photography, videography, and graphic arts.


Americana I

the blue sky poem
October 1962

let us talk sky—like farmers
we are the plowboys
we do nurture our fate

beneath blue skies we can doubt
whether seeds planted
will sprout and press like beanstalks
against the sky
and then, crash upon us

we’ll talk sky—like mariners
unaware of what we have berthed
beneath our seas

we can pretend we have not planted in fertile ground
the child of our imagination does not glide beneath our sea
in the belly of our leviathan

I hear darkness in the sun’s
glare and sirens crying for the
mountains to cover them

I see in the blue sky
the earth opening
to swallow her offspring

we will dismiss this as fairy tale and myth
and talk blue sky

we will accept this as our fate
and ignore

we will ignore and await the day
when the sky howls with our folly.

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