Aden Thomas


The Morning You Were Born

Somewhere between the moon and Mercury
the clouds said something of your name.
Without sleep my body hollowed.
My fuel was the light of dawn
and the thought of your arrival.
I drove through the streets on fumes
of how far the world could now travel.
Traffic signals blinked their silent string.
The flowers of cherry trees
glowed a pulsing red.
On the AM radio, a woman’s voice
crossed the frequencies
from a thousand miles away.


Writer’s Statement on Beauty

I wrote this poem after my first son was born. I wanted to capture that feeling of awe, wonderment, and beauty of becoming a father. I tried to get the words in the poem to work on three difference levels.  First, the referential level–what do the words mean? Second, the connotative level–what do the words suggest?  Third, the sonic level–how do the words sound? Words like moon, Mercury, clouds, body, hollowed, and dawn operate (I hope) on all three levels.  Additionally, the poem attempts to use connotations of space, distance, and the celestial to bring a sense of heralding and crossing.  Finally, the poem begins and ends in iambic verse to complete this sensation of crossing a vast distance.


Aden Thomas grew up in central Wyoming. His poetry has appeared in The Kentucky Review, The Inflectionist Review, and Third Wednesday. More at: