River of Words: Poetry

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Blind Morning

My morning seizure
Stifles the siren
From second bunk I descend
As always I’ve
Left warmth for the promise
Of consciousness
I do not
Share the enthusiasm
Of my coffee
We trace the trail
To first light trample soy
And scatter rice
Noises of
Eighteen wheelers on the highway
The earth’s breath
Slight are the sun’s rays
Only the shivering rice pond
Stays the stars strength
From evolution’s
Grip we take
Natural selection
In the wake
Of the expanding universe
Two teal on the left

Kevin Maher, Age 15
Entered Individually
Lafayette, Louisiana
2002 Art Grand Prize Winner, 2001 Finalist

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