it must be the rumination
of thunder in the western sky
a sound so dark as this that works
its way so deep into the core
of your restless bones
or the late-night train sleeping
through the little town
that lives two dreams away
or perhaps the tidal shush
of pooling blood reminding you
to count each beat in time
with the clock in a nearby room
insisting that its voice be heard
like sullen clocks are known to do
so hard to tell this late at night
this early in the coming day
legs twitch tick by tick
crusted eyes read the tea leaves
fleeting dreams on the edge
of this pulsing darkness
now suddenly brash birds begin
to warn of restive winter light
in the early morning heart of spring
what hasn’t happened is what is
(they say in circling sleepless tones)
take in the waning darkness
the rhythm of the rising sun
welcome in your ragged sigh
the cooling breath
the weightlessness
the timeless dust of dying stars
James K. Zimmerman is an award-winning poet and Pushcart Prize nominee. His work appears in The Evansville Review, Confrontation, The Worcester Review, Atlanta Review, Nimrod, The Bellingham Review, Vallum, Kestrel, The Cape Rock, Oberon, and The MacGuffin, among others. He is the author of “Little Miracles” (Passager Books, 2015) and “Family Cookout” (Comstock, 2016), the winner of the Jessie Bryce Niles Chapbook Award from The Comstock Review. He can be contacted through his website.