Donum Aquae


Donum Aquae



After days of rain

the clouds are made

arable and now, in

sunlit splatter, they

most resemble a king-

fisher’s conspicuous

plumage of pale citrus

buried in blue, as it

descends from the

shadows of the lower

boughs into still water

leaving a faint ruffle

of glistening light.

In the Atacama Desert,

some claim that rainfall

has never been recorded.

How raw and immense

the silence must be and

the longing for gradations

of grain in something other

than honey gold or russet –

the mica-bright flecks

of an endless sea that

once, perhaps, cradled

water but now sleeps as

a vast body of sediment

without surf or cadence

bleeding out to the far

horizon where variations

in sound or hues are things

the landscape is forever

working towards and

that the star-thick heavens

withhold in dark abundance. 


John Muro


 A two-time nominee in 2021 for the Pushcart Prize and, more recently, a 2022 nominee for Best of the Net, John is a resident of Connecticut and a lover of all things chocolate. He has published two volumes of poems: In the Lilac Hour and Pastoral Suite in 2020 and 2022, respectively. Both books were published by Antrim House, and both are available on Amazon. John’s poems have been featured in numerous literary journals and anthologies, including Acumen, Ariel Chart, Barnstorm, Euphony, Moria, and Sky Island. Instagram: @johntmuro

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