While frigid sky drifts blue
muted clocks promise oblivion,
a voice wakes before the others
to talk the sun through its weary rising
Mingling major and minor keys of
between the night’s rumble of the Deegan
and the morning’s urgent horns.
Mingling keys, major and minor,
a voice empties on the sun streaks
of rented eggshell walls, sun cracks that
survived the sharp Kingsbridge skyline,
Blanketing her brother’s body,
and warming treads in
tilted hallways and onto
tarred, spotted sidewalks.
About the Poet
Hillel Broder is a teacher of English literature and composition. He earned his doctorate at the CUNY Graduate Center. He lives with his wife and four children in the Bronx.