“The Sun Rises in Colorado” by Michael Kreger

Once I make it as a writer, I’ll write a poem 

(just for myself) about the sunrise in Colorado.

When I start, I’ll place the brightest words straight up 

the page, letters sharp, ascending from damp earth 

as if Jesus appearing on the third day. White against 

margins. Moving eyes exiting a cave. Screens shiny 

and clean. A Resurrection. Next, I’ll scatter 

thin cool air and blue-blue skies into black letters 

and blank spaces. Conjure the smell of sap and 

wet mornings. Cold water and the taste of coffee 

an unnamed Sunday. Several tall tan men 

in cowboy boots outside the 7-Eleven and blonde 

boys in baggy shorts filling up a red Jeep. 

And all their thick calves. And sunflowers too 

tall with every eye turned up. The White people 

will be looking, so I’ll add some white hands, 

tight under creased brows and folded arms 

(but just a little). I’ll end with black earth, knees and 

hands pressed in. Seedlings. All those letters, spaces 

and things will feel each other, particles with patient 

fingers. Pores and sweat. Red shoulders. Against 

those words of sunlight and dirt and dry air and smoke, 

I’ll be allowed the title of poet, shaper of lines,

periods and words folded into a morning Colorado sun.

About Michael Kreger
He/Him/His

Michael E. Kreger is a poet, artist and educator living and working in Denver, Colorado. Michael writes poetry that seeks to identify and examine the intersections of the many opposing forces in the world around (and within) us. He is on the Editorial Board at Twenty Bellows, a literary magazine focused on Colorado fiction, poetry and essays. Most recently, his poems can be found in High Shelf Press and the Broad River Review. Michael is currently completing work on his first full-length manuscript titled Apparition Field.