Mark J. Mitchell
Once there was wine here.
Now sunflowers color an autumn room.
The pitcher is painted with a tale--
a gift for these lengthening nights:
A winged horse and hero
who was allowed—once—to ride
his back. A girl, rescued, perhaps,
who loves the horse, without wanting.
She whispers a perfect nothing,
unveiling stories on the other
face of the ewer, where she
strokes the horse’s head,
light as a petal, and one
pearly horn grows. It’s long
enough and bright enough to light
flowers and songs.
The Flowers of Eden
The book’s silent because Adam got caught
by beasts. Their names swallowed all the short time
the garden gave. He never looked around.
Eve, pleased by blossoms, by smells God had wrought,
played daily. She breathed petals, soft as sounds--
whispers, “Tulip. Daisy. Magnolia. Lime.”
Mark J. Mitchell was born in Chicago and grew up in southern California. His latest poetry collection, Roshi San Francisco, was just published by Norfolk Publishing. Starting from Tu Fu was recently published by Encircle Publications. He is very fond of baseball, Louis Aragon, Miles Davis, Kafka and Dante. He lives in San Francisco with his wife, the activist and documentarian, Joan Juster where he made his marginal living pointing out pretty things. Now, like everyone else, he’s unemployed. He has published 2 novels and three chapbooks and two full length collections so far. Titles on request.
A meager online presence can be found at:
A primitive web site now exists: https://mark-j-mitchell.square.site/
He sometimes tweets @Mark J Mitchell_Writer