A New Day by Kimberly Stutevoss

A New Day: Kimberly Stutevoss

A current runs through the grassy green hill

Looking onto the red strawberry fields

And the mossy boulders that lay behind

While the sun is rising on the east side

The air is brisk filled with fresh morning dew

With the first rays of sun the roosters go

Cock a doodle doo and the voices start

They are hushed and whispering to the kids

Saying, “it’s time to wake up, hunny, please”

As they get up the voices get louder

They start their day with talks of past dreams

The ones they had last night during their long sleep

They saw rivers of faces down hallways

Merging together and meshing desires

With clothes and bodies all floating around

But the day has started and it is clear

That today is a new day just starting

While the white puffy clouds in the sky part

Showing the crystal blue sky up above

And the geese that are flying in the V

The day is new and beautiful with all

Of the nature that surrounds the valley

The families have started their routines

Now working out on the farms and cleaning

It goes like this all day till it’s over

A current runs through the grassy green hill

Looking onto the red strawberry fields

And the mossy boulders that lay behind

While the sun is falling on the west side

The air is cool with the stars shining down

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Over Greenland

BY PETER CAMPION

A current like a noise machine through sleep.

Blue lichen fields. Mossed boulders. Waking up

to ice cubes cracking in a plastic cup

and voices (“awesome for the Hong Kong branch

. . . well, most of all we miss our daughter . . . ”) I still

see it: the climb up slate as runnels spill

from some bare misted summit like a source.

Whatever sense this dream might make

to others. And whatever when they wake

they also have been dreaming. Rivers of faces

down hallways, merging, as desires mesh

and fissure. Cash for clothes or arms or flesh.

And if there is no towering sublime

where all comes clear to all, no final climb

through cloud, like some old Bible illustration:

how could that ever stop the current flowing

out of the glass at JFK: skin glowing

plumb and peach as we walk inside the sun.