Red Sun

By Gay Baines

Spring is eternal April noon,

gutter-green, rain-shiny, gray, sun

watery. Moods are fierce, we rage,

creeks rise, lives swamped for the

sake of small cities far away. Here,

where the tinnitus of Niagara roars

day and night, we should be less affected.

Perhaps. For my part,

I am angry. I earned the right to the sun,

the clear warm nights of June. I’ve

survived December, its bitter

two-faced brother, gritting teeth,

teetering on ice-crusted snow to

gather wind-tossed mail. I want a magic

scimitar to rip open the clouds, to let

the steamy skies of summer back

for my own pleasure, and for anyone else

who feels winter still moaning in their

bones. Let the red sun swim aloft,

clearing the icy mush of rotted spring away,

warming us right to the fiery core

of our fatal origin.




I live in East Aurora, New York, and am a member of the Roycroft Wordsmiths. I have a B.A. in English from Russell Sage College and have done graduate work at Syracuse University and SUNY – Buffalo. I won the National Writers Union Poetry Prize in 1991, Honorable Mention in the Ruth Cable Memorial Poetry Contest in 1996, and the 2008 Mary Roelofs Stott Award for poetry, as well as other prizes. My poems, essays, and short stories have appeared or are forthcoming in over 50 literary journals, including 13th Moon, Amarillo Bay, Anemone Sidecar, Atlanta Review, The Baltimore Review, Bayou, Caveat Lector, Cimarron Review, Confluence, Confrontation, Controlled Burn, Dislocate, Eclectica, Eclipse, Edison Literary Review, The Evansville Review, Grey Sparrow, Hampden-Sydney Poetry Review, Jabberwock Review, Louisiana Literature, Nimrod International Journal, Oregon East, Phoebe, The Pinch, poemmemoirstory, Poet Lore, Quiddity Literary Journal, RE:AL, Rosebud, Slipstream, South Carolina Review, The Texas Review, Verdad, Westview, Whiskey Island, Willow Review, Wisconsin Review, and Zone 3.

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