Tag Archives: leaves

first day of december

1 The Brownian motion of a mass of childrenyou might mistake for random dancingcold beside a line of still buses waiting on the first day of December. 2 A woman counting out loud to a known numberI do not know … Continue reading

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there could be

Winter settles white in furrowsleft by Indiana plows, sags with the weight of old Ohiobarns and tilting Allegheny cherry trees, waits where the Senecanation begins, clings on stands of birchesthat sway across straight dark pines cradlingwet snow while maples clutch … Continue reading

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losing a mind, fall

from the rough center of a tree yellow wanders through green to the end of the branch like losing a mind until there is nothing, the poem where the mind stops blue in sun cold          red brown trunk gives way … Continue reading

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among dry leaves

A shock of yellow in a pattern of leaves brittling on pavement stone. Black veined wings folded, butterfly rustles among dry leaves steps from pedestrians who walk between cars in traffic, dancing a death wish together.                         I walk through two … Continue reading

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a heart beating

City brittle as leaves that have driedin days of sun since the daythey flew for a moment, imaginingthemselves free, coming to rest inthis morning ritual, gathering,scattering, gathering – a heart beating, this city of dryleaves: it bursts again and againto … Continue reading

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again

after sou vai keng’s “balcony” all the anticipation of historyponderous in the clinchedleft hand of a womanstaring at the sun who saysshe does not believe inpromises, too manybroken, too manybroken, too manybroken to know the sun has no reasonto promise … Continue reading

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more than half the sky

Orange flames melt in midday sunto liquid yellow edges. They runthrough intervals of blue skyto straight green lines that fall like water with the grain of the universethey are drawn on, like wateron the face of rock so you’d swearit … Continue reading

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many minds

Yellow crescent on gray stonebreaks the line where it fallsand the form of a poemcomes to mind – not the thingitself, but the thinkingof it, the coming to bewhere the eye of the mindand the eye of the worldmeet and … Continue reading

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like any circle

After three years nesting between torn screensand glass in south windows, polistine waspsare lost when cold fiberglassreplaces old oak. It seems strange that workers placing frames inodd openings with care enough to leave no spaceunsealed would not stop to admire … Continue reading

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driving into little rock, october 2006

all movement existsin the arc between two deaths-Doris Humphrey Some little girl from Tupeloon Rural Voices Radiois telling a story aboutmaking a tent of booksand blankets and her friendand the cat knock it over and it kinda hurts when the … Continue reading

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