Dawn in the Fall of My Thirtieth Year

And through Tudor windows opens antique timbre—
old-forge steel, tempered and flank-fitted for war horses,
makes seize-music on meat-pistons that mean plunder:
As if.
………For I know a construction truck’s shuddering out its raised dumper,
and the sun is a vinegar sponge. And You slowly thumb up Your pure pressure.
Let me will to possess such a life, such a love, such a terrible noise.


Josiah Cox

Josiah Cox is from Kansas City, Missouri. His poems have appeared in Christianity and Literature, Trinity House Review, The Blue Mountain Review, and elsewhere. He currently serves as a graduate instructor in the Writing Seminars at Johns Hopkins University and as a Lead Assistant Editor at The Hopkins Review.


'Dawn in the Fall of My Thirtieth Year' has 1 comment

  1. May 26, 2023 @ 11:10 am Alex

    So beautiful.

    Reply


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