Issue One

Autumn 2011


for a newborn son

when a  gaze

is
not yet
thunder  but

merely rolled  open
steeped  in
sleep

still
finding
range  &

target  that look
before a look
occupies

as if skies
found a way to
blink  till then stup-

endously unwatched &
overseen  you
lift blue

at last to
me – a glance
through wonder  that

once  thrown seemingly
fixes  all that has
passed

below

 

_____________________

Mario Petrucci