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POETRY I BY DEL MARIE ROGERS OPEN FIELD, NEAR MORNING In mist-grey winter, solid, dark, as if they contain the solemn truths all living things draw near in sleep, horses stir. Strong forelegs and shoulders support our dreams, the things we grasp: familiar terrors at the edge of sight, an old man, half-starved in his shack, survivors of war, our sainted aunts, thirsty ones awake in their graves, the house, street, where each should stand. Sky colors begin, spread random fires. I cross the street at a changing light. Wide country where we could live in peace with lovers, children, animals, hides behind days that wear us down. OUR PATH The mild influence of ordered planets can’t reach us now. The signal’s blocked. A siren screams, we can’t hear our thoughts; the sleepless moon can’t do its work. We’re driven to madness by something else, a roaring freeway, exhaust fumes, jackhammers, stored, silent guided missiles, men beheaded before our eyes. With the hurtful sound of shattered windows filling the streets, how can we feel the planets’ pull? Once we were guided along a path we were born to walk. DEL MARIE ROGERS’ She’ll Never Want More Than This was published by Firewheel Press in 2002 and was a finalist for the Texas Institute of Letters award for best book of poems. She lives in Frisco, Texas. Naomi Shihab Nye 20 THE TEXAS OBSERVER MAY 18, 2007