By Jean Howard

         (For Robert Morgan Howard)


This pour of copper,

molten with clouds,

melts across January,

whose platinum stokes

its great fire.


It is as this day, last year,

that we inched you down

into the coal heart

of the earth

as sun celebrated



And small clouds gathered

to watch

and learn your ways,

so they, too, could go

out, in blazes.


*Originally published by Gemini Magazine


Born and raised in Salt Lake City, Utah, performance poet, Jean Howard, resided in Chicago from 1979 to 1999. She has since returned to Salt Lake City. Her poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Off The Coast, Clackamas Literary Review, Harper’s Magazine, Eclectica Magazine, Eclipse, Folio, Fugue, Fulcrum, Crucible, Gargoyle, Green Hills Literary Lantern, Painted Bride Quarterly, The Burning World, The Distillery, Pinch, Borderlands: Texas Poetry Review, Pisgah Review, Pinch, ken*again, The Cape Rock, Quiddity Literary Journal, Grasslimb, Rattlesnake Review, Concho River Review, Spillway, Spoon River Review, Willard & Maple, Wisconsin Review, Chicago Tribune, among seventy other literary publications. Featured on network and public television and radio, she has combined her poetry with theater, art, dance, video, and photography.

A participant in the original development of the nationally acclaimed “Poetry Slam,” at the Green Mill, she has been awarded two grants for the publication of her book, Dancing In Your Mother’s Skin (Tia Chucha Press), a collaborative work with photographer, Alice Hargrave. She has been organizing the annual National Poetry Video Festival since 1992, with her own award-winning video poems, airing on PBS, cable TV, and festivals around the nation.

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