The Return of the Poet

By Gregory Bryant

A Haiku is formed from the ashes. 

The sun forms familiar shadows. 

Words are jettisoned from deep beneath the earth to the surface. 

We are attempting to define the shadows from the sun. 

Rhyme has been pushed out like the birth of a newborn. 

The iambic pentameter, meter, stanza and turn have reappeared from the darkness. 

I can smell the metaphors and my mouth receives the familiar taste of a simile. 

I am starting to define the shadows from the sun. 

I can see Hughes, Frost, Browning, Tolson, Johnson, Dunbar, Wheatley and Shakespeare.

I can see the dawn of a new day. 

No more darkness and gloom. 

The children no longer have that empty feeling. 

This is the beginning of a new era thanks to the past. 

This is the rebirth of the world’s greatest treasure. 

This is the rebirth of the poet.