Saturday, April 19, 2014


There is still time to enter

the National Geographic
Traveler Photo Contest

or you can just continue
to sit in the intersection

of that guttural
and instinctive color appreciation

that for sighted people
provides answers to questions
we never thought to ask

and envy.
(That's cool too.)

As a child this poet
asked a parent

if it were possible
to record dreams

not because they were spectacular

(and sometimes the most
mundane ones

were given the most explication
of all their insignificant details)

but because
the black (or even blue)
formations she scribbled onto a page

would become something subjective
in a reader's mind

which was well and good

but still no match
for those randomly-firing neurons
that gave her those

"real-photolistic" ineffable
and ephemeral

pre-dawn splashes of color.

This poem © 2014 Emily Cooper.