Orange Glo
For William Darrell Mays, Jr.

By Michael Blaine


Once when
driving home,
sky and low sun
through the rear
car window
filled the interior
while everything
else darkness; above
a steady downpour.
The highway darkness
just past headlights.

Real isn’t enough;
sometimes in movies
stuff must be
added to make
the eye believe. 
These streets are always
dark and reflect light.

Skippers and monarchs
alight on a few flopped
zinnias that surround
the sideyard garden;
the remaining veggies
droop from vines.
Some rot on the dark ground.

Evening light
touches the house.
A last tomato just
inches above the mud.
It must have been
light that stuttered
his rushing heart
bathed the shadows
in orange glow. 


Michael Blaine’s chapbook, Murmur (Bay Oak Publishing), was the winner of the 2005 Dogfish Head Poetry Prize.  He was the founding editor of the Delmarva Review and is co-editor of the online Delaware Poetry Review.  He is a 2006 Delaware Fellowship of the Arts recipient in the field of Poetry.  He teaches English at Laurel High School and adjuncts at Delaware Technical and Community College.  He lives in Seaford, Delaware with his wife, Sara, and their two children, Will and Sadie.

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