Author: Gary Beck Source: https://www.polseguera.com/writers/writing-109_dawn-in-cities.html Dawn in Cities Dawn in Cities: 'Effluvia', 'Tidal Sweep', 'Fruitless Search', 'Hope', 'Doomed' Effluvia Before dawn waves break loudest on beaches when no one suns, or fumbles under blankets. Morning light makes little whispers and horizons are attracted to sand dune men trudging the dank shore seeking lost treasure. Tidal Sweep Again in the silence of night it is the woman who comes to me for surrender until first light. We met many dusks ago and sojourned together, until dawn drove her to the sea. For she was a twilight lover, compelled by mermaids of the morning to clean the sands of lovers stains. Fruitless Search I kept a vigil, driven from a thorny bed of sleep, by ghostly visitant who waved discoveries in gleaming hands. Into the evening streets I rushed, the calm, hazy sky and glistening lights a seeming mockery of mysteries to come on such a night of emanations. I sought others, hoping in the milling press to find someone to share my neon appetite, but nothing comes when sought in hunger. How fast the streets were paced by urgent, shuffling feet fearing the brief expanse of night would invite someone's fading. Hours passed delivering the message, unrevealed in fleeting motions. No one left to meet in chance encounters, no where left to go but home. Nothing but another evening's desolation gloating with many others, leaving me marooned on lonely doorstep, unconsoled by hints of dawn. Hope I have heard the rain hum evening of my land's people crying angry fears, my land's people raising a throbbing chant surrendering our tomorrows. Though come from once ship of trust, fought hard and won, stood tall 'over there', in pride went far, then faltered. Not resolved that conglomerates and cartels are continuations, cycles always flexing shape and choice and my people's land is a young land, learning to maintain the estate, filling cities and forests with beginnings. Growing is my land's people. Doomed Evenings of gentle touch linger like the sex sweet haunt of finger gently stroking a lover's hair. Past the waste bins of desire the shadowed recollections of the liar contract with audible despair. We have walked the streets at dawn, swallowed by the ravenous forgetting of home and place and city, where we live and have lived before, by unused yesterday's devoured of time, of face, or our passing with sad detachment and bleak wonder, fearing vision beyond confessing. Uncertainty, ripped from bled imaginings, while the graveyard tugs its ear and waits. Gary Beck Poems from 'Dawn in Cities' have appeared in: Alura, Blue Print Review, Bitterroot, Caravan, Decanto Poetry Magazine, Green's Magazine, Poem, Poetry Today, Portland Review, San Fernando Poetry Journal, Voices, Chantarelle's Notebook, The Innisfree Poetry Journal, Wolf Moon Press Journal, Istanbul Literary Review, Nashwaak Review, Poetry Monthly, The Persistent Mirage, Words on Paper, Contemporary Rhyme, Blue Fifth Review, Remark Poetry, Lucid Rhythms, Istanbul Literary Review, Written Word, Thick With Conviction, Munyori Poetry Journal, Rogue Poetry Review, Madswirl, Write Me A Metaphor, Starfish Poetry, Spokes, Concrete Meat Sheet, Publishing Genius, A Little Poetry, Sentinel Poetry Journal, RKVRY, Faraway Journal, Clearfield Review, Poet's Ink Review, Media Cake Magazine, Toronto Quarterly Review, The Commonline Project, Spark Bright Magazine, Ranfurly Review, Baltimore Is Reads, Farmhouse Magazine, The Ugly Tree, Pure Francis, Foundling Review and others. Submitted on 18th July, 2009