Ann K. Schwader
My Father Hears the Aliens
My father hears the aliens all night
beneath the voices on his radio
that fill the sleepless hours, set things right
from coast to coast as only call-in shows
can do for those who trust the signal. Slowed
by grief & January, dark becomes
its own dimension. Even saucers go
unnoticed there, their shining hulls just crumbs
among the stars. Yet these transmissions hum
in subtle rhythm with a heart still caught
between its former orbit & what comes
when gravity gives way at last, allots
some time for flight, for answering what keeps
the signal strong. Some time, at least, for sleep.
_______________
Ann K. Schwader‘s poems have recently appeared in Spectral Realms, Dreams & Nightmares, Star*Line, Abyss & Apex, and Weird Fiction Review. Her most recent collection, Dark Energies (P’rea Press 2015) was a Bram Stoker Award Finalist. She is the SFPA Grand Master for 2018.
Editor’s Notes: Editor’s Notes: Ann masterfully writes a Spenserian* sonnet in iambic pentameter with effective slant rhyme. The complementing image is of 1938 Vintage Valve Radio (Stage Two) Dial (from Wayne’s Radios) superimposed on UFO stock images.
*For a good discussion on the comparison of popular sonnet forms, look here: https://poemshape.wordpress.com/2009/01/11/what-is-shakespearean-spenserian-amp-petrarchan-sonnets/
It’s always pleasing to read a poem that can simultaneously maintain a form as well as its flow. This one certainly does that, as well as offering a fun, stargazer vibe. Well done.