The 1: 15 - Poem by Francis Santaquilani
Like a corpulant star
In the wide summer night sky
And aligns with his open window.
Flat on his back, he cools and
Rides the grind of the earth.
The burn from the bite of the day
He steams. From his hands
It swirls and climbs
Like ghostly ivy and entwines trees
Rooftops and the moon.
In the blue shadows and the green light,
With a locked door at his back
And a window to escape into a warm lap,
Man and boy duke it out.
The boy wins!
The boy stumbles into the night
And hops a dad.
Dad rolls on steel wheels.
Sparks and metal shavings fly
And cling to his blue, worn, sweater like stars.
His nimbus is magnificent.
He hauls and hauls and smiles.
He is speed, smoke and sweat
Comments about The 1: 15 by Francis Santaquilani
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
- Still I RiseMaya Angelou
- The Road Not TakenRobert Frost
- If You Forget MePablo Neruda
- DreamsLangston Hughes
- Annabel LeeEdgar Allan Poe
- IfRudyard Kipling
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy EveningRobert Frost
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye
- TelevisionRoald Dahl
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda