Scott Wiggerman | 3 poems

Life on the West Rim

To the north, Sangre de Cristo
peaks are white as doves.

To the east, the Sandias
gather in detail, shadows 

fanning out like wings
to reveal age-old creases.

To the south, the Manzanos
are a pigeon-gray outline

like the city down below,
shrouded in morning haze.

But to the west are volcanoes
with names like Vulcan and JA,

nearer, more endearing
than the far-flung mountains.

A gauzy gibbous moon
hangs above the one called Bond,

a lingering contrail
in an otherwise empty sky.

Outcrops of black rocks
clutter trails beneath my boots,

and with every step, all
directions converge in me

like sparrows to a feeder,
my red heart centered.


Barometric Pressure

That syncopated rain should make me glad,
our first precipitation in three months.
I’m pleased, but inconsistent drips are bad,
irregular, arrhythmic, full affronts
to sleep and sanity, water torture—
at least for me. He sleeps through everything,
remarks the morning after on how sure
he was that I’d be fresh as a spring,
not grumpy as a toad. You’d think he’d know
by now my patterns. I know his—perky
each morning, bright; while I’m still touch and go
an hour past my first pot of coffee.
He’s day, I’m night. He’s sun, I’m clouds. No doubt
we both annoy the other out-and-out.

Escape 

     starting with a Dickinson line (#508)
        
I’m ceded. I’ve stopped being theirs.
Now meeting dreams, not seeing theirs.

Unfettered of iron shackles,
I wasted life’s days fleeing theirs.

Across the wide river I swim.
Is my freedom foreseeing theirs?

Out from shadows, into the light.
My own god, refereeing theirs.

In the clouds I soar from doctrine.
Choice is mine; disagreeing, theirs.

Sing the scars of my naked self.
My truth: no guaranteeing theirs.


(published in If You Can Hear This: Poems in Protest of an American 
Inauguration, Little Rock, AR: Sibling Rivalry Press, 2017)


Scott_WiggermanScott Wiggerman is the author of three books of poetry, Leaf and Beak: Sonnets, Presence, and Vegetables and Other Relationships; and the editor of several volumes, including Wingbeats: Exercises and Practice in Poetry, Lifting the Sky: Southwestern Haiku & Haiga, and Bearing the Mask: Southwestern Persona Poems. Recent poems have appeared in A Quiet Courage, Naugatuck River Review, Red Earth Review, bosque, shuf, and Yellow Chair Review. He is an editor for Dos Gatos Press of Albuquerque, New Mexico.

 

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