Peter Jay Shippy

 

Soul

A night of freezing rain has turned the snow banks
into Eames, into molded plastic

At the bus stop, our muster lacks punch

Our faces are drawn to our salt-dusted boots

Signs warn children about wasted motion 
lest they thaw too soon

The sun looks like a tea stain on Somerset paper

A missal of boys in black hoodies pass smoke
and exhale coronas they look like

Assisi looking for sparrows
before their colors ripen and vanish

 

 

Peter Jay Shippy is the author of Thieves’ Latin (Univ. of Iowa Press). He has work upcoming in the The American Poetry ReviewThe CanaryThe Iowa Review, and Verse. His abecedarian suite Alpahville is online at 42opuseratio, Tarpaulin Sky and Word for / Word. He teaches at Emerson College.

 

 

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