It was early in the morning
and maybe it was just a dream.
I visited with God just for a second.
That’s the way dreams go sometimes.
There’s something about God and time;
I guess you might say
they both go back a long, long way.
In my dream, I sat on the dewy grass
watching God begin to paint the morning.
I think a sunrise over the Flint Hills
is a good place to start, He said.
I’ll add a little wisp of fog in the valleys,
a glint of early light on the pond,
a reflection of the cottonwoods.
Sometimes I think I go too far
with sunlight on water.
Cottonwoods are beginning to turn,
so I need a little green,
a little yellow,
a little orange.
Oops. I might have overdone it.
I do that sometimes.
Let’s see, I’ll put a matching pair of herons
taking off with water dripping from their feet,
looking like they’re trailing fire in the sunlight.
I always like the way I do that.
I love to do clouds too,
I’ll add a couple to filter the sun
as it peeks over the horizon.
I’ll need lots of shades of blue for the sky now,
and different pinks and yellows for those clouds.
I always like to squeeze in just a little magenta
right down there on the horizon, too.
Sometimes I think I go too far,
God, I said, I couldn’t agree with you more.
Pat Latta grew up in a small town in central Texas. He moved to Wichita in 1983 and lives close to the Little Arkansas River. He writes with a weekly poetry group. He appreciates the power of individual words in poetry and strives to express ideas as concisely as possible.
Guest Editor: Roy Beckemeyer is from Wichita, Kansas. His poems have recently appeared in The Midwest Quarterly, Kansas City Voices, The North Dakota Review, and I-70 Review. Two of his poems were nominated for the 2016 Pushcart Prize competition. His debut collection of poems, “Music I Once Could Dance To,” published in 2014 by Coal City Review and Press, was selected as a 2015 Kansas Notable Book by the State Library of Kansas and the Kansas Center for the Book.