Poetry

By Faye Branum

“. . . one might have thought that Nature lived hard by, 

and was brewing on a large scale.”

—Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

The smoldering coil 

Suspended on a tin stand 

Like the rings 

Of a microcosmic planet 

So small it cannot

Be seen in this single take. 

There must be a universe 

Dwelling hard by

But where to see the other 

Systems of orbs percolating 

Around some unknown sun

Some bulbous roiling star

That may be the city streetlamp

On the corner built 

In time for the World’s Fair

To channel vapors of distilled coal,

Or perhaps the planet’s shining sphere 

Is that window lantern bright on the street

Burning from a century away

Fueled by the oil of whales harvested 

From the sea in mass

Lifespans and more from this 

Singular invisible backyard planet

Circling through the earth’s world 

Unexplored.

—Faye A. Branum

By Faye Branum

          I buy a book 

       At a grocery store;

      A collection of short stories.

     The author is a serious writer

     Seriously dead now 

      Countless years.

       I don’t pick up the top copy. 

        It might have something 

         To do with germs, 

          But more so 

          The crisp dust jacket of

          Fresh book.

          The crack of spine 

          Pushed open

         For the first introductory

        Gawk.

       On the opening page,

      At the beginning of each story 

     Lined with a quote 

    There’s a mysterious substance.

   I think of bits of book—

   News from the factory,

   A dusting of paper 

   Uniformly the same color

   In sundry singular shapes;

    A confetti of communion wafers.

     Has someone eaten

      A sweet of fine sugary flakes

      Food-like

      In a biblical sense?

     Must be manna,

    Ancient substance  

   Of wandering Israelites 

  Wilderness rovers

  Staying alive 

  On white caky stuff

  Now stuck to page,

   Between connecting sheets,

    Not easily brushed aside or 

      Effortlessly blown off. 

       I cover myself 

        In the dandruff