Poetry

James Merhebi photo

By

Penn Kemp

Doctrine of Signatures

Seasons have their hues: ours is sun-steeped

translucence lit from within till it brims over.

Interjections interrupt a trail we conceive as real:

the present as gift, as presence, the only possible

way through, way in. Memories weigh in wedged

as if they were real. Futures impinge as if secure.

Females dun beside their bolder mates, gold-

finch cross the sky in graceful loops of liquid

flight and song, sway on green fronds that bow

under light weight to the doctrine of signatures.

Cedar or Bohemian Waxwings twitter among

bare boughs on their way warmward.

Goldfinch, cardinal, dragonfly, all hightailing it

on the updraft, waiting for wind to shift at the red

round of setting sun.

The flock alight and lift on a single breath. South,

south, sweet wind carry them safe. Light

flight.

Goldenrod scimitars flash solid arabesques of late

summer, late afternoon, late in our lives for such

luminous entrance.

Mary McDonald photo

Penn Kemp