When I started posting poetry on my blog, it was really to share some of my favourites, some of the works that resonate with me and that have become interwoven with my own stories and history. It never occurred to me that there might be a real poet reading and eager to contribute. So I'm very excited about this poetry post.
Joa Suorez lives and works in the San Francisco Bay Area. She studied poetry at the University of California, Santa Barbara, in the College of Creative Studies, and at St. Mary’s College of California, in the MFA Program in Creative Writing. Her poetry has been featured in the literary magazine Spectrum and the poetry journal Into the Teeth of the Wind. Works in progress can be read at The Weekly Commuter, in the poetry section.
I asked her about this poem and think her answer will resonate with many of us who are trying to juggle a day job with more creative endeavors: She writes, "I work in an office during the day, so my best chance to concentrate on poems is in my walk to and from the train. This leads to quite a few morning and evening poems, which tend to feel kind of misty and in-between. The area all around me is pretty built up, but sometimes the quiet of the morning makes me imagine what it was like when it was a little less lived-in, more wild and new, in a soft, hazy, just waking up sort of way."
I hope you love this as much as I do. Thanks Joa!
A softening of syllables,
a bright blur on the vegetables,
the humidity we listen in perceptible,
and the sky behind dip-dyes to blue.
Concrete made a city of our scenery,
but the morning is yielding, otherworldly,
and the distance, however real,
thins to see-through, interrupted
by the air between.