Blowing That Trumpet Like Miles
Full moon on Friday the 13th radiated circles of light like the slowly slapping waves of a low Jersey tide, luminous white, a queen wearing a crown. And I underneath her wondering why Rosie is the Queen of Corona, if Paul Simon was really friends with a Julio that he hung with in the schoolyard, now empty, echoing with kids’ laughter, bouncing basketballs, curses and taunts, constant conversation, and high pitched greetings, a haunted place, a rosary of sorts. Turning and turning in Yeats’ widening gyre, “things fall apart; the center cannot hold,” but we have been here before–almost Spring with Summer not far behind–and for every trouble, shadow, darkness, and nightmare, we know people with halos, we laud the helpers, we feel the love, we hear the music.
Crowd of daffodils,
blowing that trumpet like Miles,
corona blaring.
Kathy Kremins is a retired public school teacher and coach, adjunct professor, poet, and author. Her poems are steeped in the Irish-Catholic immigrant experience of her childhood in Newark, NJ. Her poems have appeared in The Paterson Literary Review and other publications. She is the author of The Ethics of Reading: The Broken Beauties of Toni Morrison, Arundhati Roy, and Nawal el Sadaawi and contributor to Too Smart to be Sentimental: Contemporary Irish American Women Writers.