Poetry
by John Mundt

30th St. Station
after W. S. Merwin

Sun that has set king of what is over
saber that is lain the massacre of you
silence of the sculpted stillness below dew
friend and lover enough for each man’s night
the uninvited guest with the gift of being through.
There is a statue I know in Philadelphia station
Hancock’s angel holding high one of the afflicted
a bronze saint for every victim hope for the infected
a child who grew unaware of the resurrected
prince of what has been and may yet come again
who knows what I know: angel point your wings
toward a bluer sky and bear him high above
the weather or any season’s passing and sing
that love bears much in kind with the birth of crying:
it never feels so good as after the first smack.

John Mundt is a poet and writer living in New York City. Previously published work has appeared in A&U, Christopher Street and several other publications.