74: Waking Up

74: Waking Up

74: Waking Up

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Waking Up

by Thomas James


On my right is a field of darkness.
The ants are busy in the tall grass.
I float on a lake of dark petals.


Waves of flesh wash over me.
I am looking into watery sky
At the bottom of an ancient well.


The field is flooded with darkness.
I sleep in curls of dark grass
Edged by a cloud of wild asters.


A horse stands by a worm-eaten log.
It paws the dark with its right foreleg,
Cutting dark flowers in the air.

"Waking Up," from LETTERS TO A STRANGER by Thomas James. Copyright © 2008 by Thomas James. Used by permission of Graywolf Press.