Jogging is a new time of reflection for me. I get caught in the rhythm of my breathing and the cadence of my shoes on the road surface.
In this poem, the persona is thinking over the news from the internet. I am trying to make the music of the poem reflect a bit of the hollowness of the Colorado theme.
After a Dark Night
Thursday, just before eight, and
I am not startled by gunshots
or a consolation phone call. Instead
running the chip seal road, I consider
the world and its inhabitants. I open
my ears to my surroundings: chitters,
bellows from the pond
down the hill to the left, echoes
in their homes…moaning.
The birds strike me
as most worthy of imitation:
flying free and diving
only to fill the mouth full.
— Todd Sukany 20 July 2012