
Poetry



A Lilac Begins To Leaf
Last night the memory of her mother walked out into the parking lot of the Long Rail Tavern at precisely five minutes to twelve. Where her tears fell, tiny puffs …
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The Sleepers
In the eye of sleep, brushing against some spelunker’s rope, the mind comes undone and stitches memories to dreams. Who will imagine that within the wriggling and miraculous morning estuary …
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Rains Rain
Rain drops— an inverted flock hanging on blue laundry line Rain weights radiant clematis petals white to earth Rain gleams dull surfaces darkens others The bounce, the tap, pelt, pinprick, …
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I’m Going to Read Three Poems
Before I read this first poem I should tell you that my paternal grandfather had a gold pocket watch with a lid over the watch’s face. In his later years …
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Lake Shore
“The cliché is your enemy.” –from a handbook on writing It is not easy to admit this on paper, but the surface of the lake is sparkling very much like …
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