HOME / poem: A weekly poem, read by the author.

First Light

By Jim PowellPosted Tuesday, Dec. 31, 2002, at 11:59 AM ET

Listen to Jim Powell reading this poem.

Graying chest hair emerging from his apron-top in tufts
dusted with a snow of flour
above the swelling rondure of his oven belly,
sleeves rolled, arms folded, at ease on the porch steps
outside the back door of the bakery

in the lively air of the early hour taking a break
while the bread cools on the racks inside
and a breeze picks up off the bay: the mist lifts
and the swarming dust of starlight reappears,
the constellations that were given names

beside the hive-domed ovens of Chaldea and of Ur—
near first light, thick arms cradling rolls
and crusty loaves, a gift for late-returning revelers,
for the derelict who washes in the creek
under the bridge his daily bread at daybreak.

E-MAIL

RECOMMEND... Get Slate RSS Feeds

Jim Powell was the Sherry Poet at the University of Chicago in fall 2005. The January 2007 issue of Poesia (Milan) includes 15 translations of his work by Carlo Anceschi. He lives in Berkeley, Calif.

Click here to visit Robert Pinsky's Favorite Poem Project site.To submit poetry to Slate, send up to five poems and a self-addressed, stamped envelope to: Robert Pinsky, Slate Magazine, Boston University, 236 Bay State Road, Boston, MA, 02215.

What did you think of this article?

Join The Fray: Our Reader Discussion Forum

POST A MESSAGE | READ MESSAGES