Sun God’s Sentinal

steel hydrant on our street
(the Sea-god’s sentinel)
its domed yellow cap
topped with a wrench-ready fitting
and short blue wrench-ready arms,
stumpy red torso squat in the snow
base ringed with brown March mush
in late winter when longing for sun
is most poignant;
when we hallucinate buds and birds
when longing wants to crank earth
a little further along its revolution,
at least a month’s-worth more into its arc,
to sooner reach that sweet relationship
with Ra

—it’s then I ask god to ask you to love me
as I love you until hell freezes over or
until divine firemen release the waters of love
to douse the devil’s rival flame

or till I wise up,
whichever comes first


Jim Culleny;  March 2009


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