Author's Note Here’s another poem from my new book Some Glad Morning that hasn’t previously appeared in a journal. I’m having trouble feeling thankful these days, so maybe I can learn from my own poem.
Sonnet From the Psalms:
Psalm 9, verse 1
I will give thanks, even though I don’t feel like it,
the world going to hell in the proverbial you-know-what:
oceans rising, earthquakes, hurricanes, fires.
It’s the Apocalypse, baby, and then there’s the leader
of the Free World acting like a second grader. And a bit
of a bully, besides. Not to mention racist, misogynist;
every ist you can think of. What may transpire
in the near future, nearly unthinkable. Consider
the possibilities, and the future looks bleak.
But listen, it’s October, the world unspeak-
ably beautiful: leaves of red, orange, russet,
skies of unbreakable blue, apples and pumpkins
in roadside stands, neighborhood kids
in costumes, candy bars in foil. Even the blue moon grins.
This poem first appeared in Some Glad Morning, University of Pittsburgh Press, 2019
©2020 Barbara Crooker
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