Each morning I rose from the bed of my own heavy August
dreams, wandered in an orange glow, watched the wind heave
bellows and break through the blanket of earth’s own breath.
We were children of the stadium, filling it with waves and chirps,
dreamy trombone, clarinet, and the orange trumpet blare in wind. Heavier
under each hour on the turf. A sauna of sneakers and spit. Instruments
chirped and marched into form. Stadium babies made to make waves
for the press box to watch a rolling beach of brass and steel. We ached
after each hour on the turf and spit sunscreen from sticky lips. The sun
started to slip on her evening dress. Ourselves stretched out on fake grass
while the press box watched. We rolled around the brass and steel. Hugged
our knees, pointed toes, rubbed our ribs jeweled in sweat. When Vera
found me, we ran like we ourselves were the evening dress on the sun
and clung to something sparkling. The ever-moving glitter of the river
welcomed our knees and toes and rubbed our ribs until jeweled. Vera
called us sirens warning the world, asked for bliss and plunged again.
Gwenyth Wheat, nominated for Best New Poets 2024 is a M.F.A and M.A. candidate at McNeese State University. She is the Assistant Poetry Editor for the McNeese Review. She received her Bachelor of Arts in English from the University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire. A Pushcart Prize nominee, her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Great Lakes Review, The Poet’s Touchstone, ZAUM, NOTA, LIGHT Magazine and elsewhere. You can find more about her and her work by following @gwenythwheat on Instagram.